BASS: In this fight, I definitely do not side with the little guy
Normally in the week before Christmas, this column would be filled with warm thoughts about all the good things we’ve done in the city in the past year.
Comments about all you caring people who have helped out a charity, a school, a child — those little moments that maybe no one notices, but which make our hearts feel warm.
‘Tis the season, after all.
However, I’m just not in a festive mood at all these days. In fact, as I write this, not a single present have I bought — although, I must confess, my husband does all the gift shopping and I just have to get him something.
Were it not for the youngest, I don’t think the tree would be up, decorated and illuminated every night as the sun goes down.
I’ve done no Christmas baking, no decorating — nothing at all.
One might call me a Grinch and be pretty close to accurate right now.
The reason? A microcosmic speck of evil that has apparently moved into my lungs and taken up residence.
This nasty bug moved into town with all his cousins, it appears, because I have yet to find anyone who is not sick right now.
Everyone I meet or talk with on the phone has had to put up with the congestion, the coughing, the aching, the never-freaking-ending fatigue this critter packs.
You’d think by now, having weathered colds for almost six decades, I’d be immune to it all.
It’s the same thing every time, isn’t it?
You get the sniffles.
Then you get that telltale tickling in your throat.
You find yourself feeling the sides of your neck as if you really can tell if your nodes are swollen.
If you’re like my husband and me, you debate with each other about when you are going to give in and see the doctor, knowing full well that, once you get there — sharing the waiting area with others equally as sniffly and congested — he’ll tell you to rest in bed, drink plenty of fluids and wait it out.
The impasse was broken when I gave in first and went, only to be told I had a cold.
So, every night for the last couple of weeks, there we have been, sitting in our recliners, hubby huddling under his orange blanket alternately shivering and cooking, me under a red one doing the same, fast-forwarding through commercials in whatever we have recorded on the PVR and trying to figure out ways to get all our shopping done without ever leaving those chairs.
It seems like everyone has an idea on how to cure this thing.
Cold F/X has been suggested, as has loads of vitamin C, some strange herbal-tea concoction, inhaling steam, going gluten-free to boost the immune system, leaving bowls of cut onions lying around the house, gargling with salt water (my mother believed in that — even if it worked, I will never do that again), listening to jazz music (apparently, it stimulates something inside your body that fights evil), wearing cold and wet socks, drinking coconut milk, eating chocolate (might give that one a try) and, my personal favourite, staying home and resting in bed.
Right — with Christmas just days away and nothing done.
There’s some solace in knowing I’m not alone. A quick Google search of statistics for the common cold in Canada revealed this data.
One-third of Canadian adults will have a sore throat, cold or flu in any given month.
Women are more likely than men to get sick, but we’re also more likely to treat the illness and go to the doctor.
Twenty per cent of Canadian adults ignore their symptoms altogether — how I envy that ability.
Cough and cold remedies are the second-most commonly used medications in Canada and we apparently spend, collectively, more than $300 million annually on them.
My favourite part of this particular link is the following: Despite spending that enormous amount, we’re buying medicines that, “for the most part, neither ameliorate symptoms nor change the course of the illnesses.”
Normally, I root for the little guy.
Right now, I’d like him to just move on.