On The Edge Of A Cold

It started, oh, maybe a day ago, after Kish had been fighting a cold for a few days.  The germs, like the Borg, are trying to tell me that resistance is futile.

IMG_3443That unwanted scratchiness in the back of your throat.  Mucus pouring down the esophagus like the sluggish River Styx.  The occasional, unexpected cough.  And just feeling a little bit . . . off.

Not a full-blown cold, though.  No fever.  No hacking fits that wake me up at night.  No light-headedness.  No uncontrollable sneezing.

I’m treating my condition with the basic patent remedies and folk nostrums.  Aspirin.  Juice.  Ricola Natural Herb cough drops.  I’m staying inside and keeping warm.  And, at night, I’m imbibing a glass or two of wine to dry out the sinuses and help with getting a good night’s sleep.

I think I’m on the brink, teetering between ruddy good health and the alternative.  I may have come through the worst of it already, or I may be ready to plunge.

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