I could feel a cold coming on yesterday. No, it isn't covid. It is the common cold. A chill. Caught because I walked in the rain and didn't come home and change out of my wet clothes and warm up.
Fortunately, none of my family are foolish enough to ask me if I have Covid. They know it would meet with great contempt and a husky laugh ( while coughing and sneezing and blowing my nose repeatedly. )
It is a cold.
I have not staggered to my car to go to the doctor. Nor have I bought a RATs test. I am not self isolating and I am not announcing to all that I have the VIRUS. I am just feeling blue, downcast and very sniffly because I have a cold. And it's my birthday. Sob, sniffle and sob a bit more.
As I sit here, on my laptop, in bed, with the electric blanket going and my vaporiser steaming eucalyptus into my lungs ( cough cough ) I am pondering how sad it must be to be a Covid Believer.
I know that I have a cold. It may take a day or two to recover, but I know that I am just a foolish Queenslander who is so accustomed to warm rain and balmy weather that I simply caught a chill when the temperature plummeted to below 20 degrees celsius. About 68 degrees Fahrenheit.
This global warming has got me beat: I have never known such mild temperatures and heavy rain as I have experienced over the past few years.
I was really looking forward to sharing my 67th birthday with Redhead ( my Mum ) and heading to the Sunrise Bakery to buy a couple of decadent doughnuts to devour whilst we drank our tea and pondered all things crazy, wild and insane that is going on in the world.
Alas, it was not to be.
However and I mean HOWEVER, I am coughing, spluttering and sneezing with no fear of impending death.
I just have a cold.
At about 6.30 am I got an email from Redhead wishing me a happy birthday and she included the song from " Hunt from the Wilderpeople " when Ricky Baker had his 13th birthday. She knew that I loved that song and scene.
Then, about 7.30 am, I got a phone call from Malcolm who played a version of " Happy Birthday. " I thanked him and spluttered and coughed and he told me to go to bed and look after myself.
Those two messages made me feel warmer somehow.
While I was cold and shivering and not that flash in health, their love gave me warmth and it was chicken soup to the soul.
We HAVE to stop panicking when we get the sniffles.
Just pop into bed with a laptop, type an article and sniff a bit that you missed out on a doughnut with your mother but tomorrow is another day.
After all, as a child, didn't we all love a rainy day in bed with a transistor radio? Snuggled up, with vicks on our chest and the soothing words of a mother saying " don't worry. You'll' feel better soon. "
Just as long as Redhead doesn't come up and look after me. I think I would prefer Covid!
Thanks Redhead and " Scrubby " ... your thoughts are most appreciated.
I am going to replenish my tissue supply and lament the doughnut I never got to eat. Mind you, there is always tomorrow....
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