When Aaron had a scratchy throat, he stopped kissing me. When Claudia got a runny nose, she wiped it on my arm. I got sick. Really sick.
I am not a stoic lady, by any means. I cry and moan and want the world to know just how shitty I feel, and the injustice of it all. Yesterday was Father's Day in Canada. Luckily though, not in Germany. So I didn't have to suffer much guilt at employing Aaron as my on-call nurse.
Throughout the course of the day we tried many things to get me to shut up. I swallowed a paste of honey, garlic and chilli pepper. I acted like the old man and had a shot of whiskey. I had tea and popsicles. I asked Aaron to put a pillow over my head. Finally, we rigged up a home-made neti pot and drained 500 mL of saline through my nasal passages, took more than the recommended dose of medicine and went to bed.
Folks, I should totally be a doctor. Today I feel fabulous, yesterday a fading memory. I even put a goddamn skirt on and straightened my hair.
All was well in the world until I looked into the wonders of the neti pot and was hit with the words BRAIN EATING AMOEBA. Okay, we used sterilized water and we're not from Louisiana, but still. I want my cold back.