To say that having a cold makes you feel miserable is an understatement of the first magnitude.  At first you’re afraid you’re going to die, but as the cold really gets into your system, you become afraid you’re NOT going to die!  I would use the phrase “I feel like Death warmed up.”, except that the Grim Reaper is probably huddled before a roaring fire wearing ugg boots and a sheepskin jacket, sipping a hot toddy!

Friends are very sympathetic, but only over the phone, and the ones who do visit will only come as far as the door.  I feel I should be carrying a little bell and chanting “Unclean, unclean!” to warn people of my affliction.  Friends are not only sympathetic, but offer to do things for me, like shopping, posting letters, anything.  Pity I only remember after they have gone that there is a pile of washing that needs to be hung on the line!

Talking about washing, the pile I brought in from the line the other day is still on the chair in the bedroom, as I felt too awful to fold it and put it away.  So, I go in to attend to it during one of my good spells, only to find the cat has taken full advantage and has nested among my clean tea towels and black trousers!

Have a nice lie down, friends advise, which would be lovely if my nose didn’t clog up the instant I become horizontal, leaving me breathing heavily through my mouth, aggravating my already sore throat.  Two nights of trying to sleep under these conditions leaves me even more tired than usual, so when I try to lose myself in a good movie or TV programme, I sleep through it.

After two nights of trying to sleep with my nose bunged up, I wake early one morning to find that my nose has become un-bunged during the night, all over my pillow and hair.  It’s far too early to get up, but I can’t sleep any more with that, so it’s under the shower before daybreak, what joy!  Then I find that I’m too weak to dry myself, so I sit on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a damp towel, waiting to dry naturally.  This would be a reasonable prospect in summer, but in June, your perspective goes walkabout along with your sense of humour, and it’s freezing cold at 6 a.m.!

A cup of coffee sounds very good right now, but it tastes a bit funny, as far as I can tell, because only 10 per cent of my taste buds are working within normal parameters.  That’s right, my sense of smell went on strike, so my milk has gone off, undetected. 

Just then a neighbour pops in to see if I want anything from the shop, and wonders about the funny smell.  Oh bugger, the empty tin of cat food that has been sitting at the bottom of my rubbish bin for the past couple of days has become a bit on the nose.  On everybody else’s nose, that is, not on my poor malfunctioning schnozz!

Comfort food is definitely called for, so for the first time in years I make a nice steak and kidney pie for tea.  I do hope it tasted nice!  The only thing I can claim to be able to taste properly is the hot lemon with brandy and honey, but with each sip of this glorious sweet drink, I can feel my blood sugar levels rising to alarming heights, (did I mention I am diabetic?) so guilt is added to my already depressed feelings.  What more can go wrong?  Oh no, I just sneezed!  I hope I got my clean knickers off the washing line!