Cold and flu season. The bane of my existence. Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but the viruses lurking around every corner this time of year stir up a bit of panic in those of us with chronic lung disease.
The past few years I’ve gotten my first cold just before the holidays, in December. This year, I got my first cold at the end of October, and I was less than enthusiastic about its early appearance. It started on a Thursday evening while I was tutoring. My throat began to feel a little dry, a little sore, a little unwell. The panic set in. Calm down, it’s just allergies, I told myself. But I had a nagging suspicion that was confirmed when I woke up the next morning with all the classic symptoms of the common cold.
Those first days of a cold cause a great deal of stress for me. CFers can never just “relax” and let the virus run its course. For the average person, a cold means a short period of annoying, uncomfortable symptoms, followed by the return of normal life. The common cold usually lasts 7-10 days. If you are a CFer reading this, I’m pretty sure you just laughed or rolled your eyes. I don’t remember the last time a cold lasted 7-10 days for me. For CFers, the common cold means annoying, uncomfortable symptoms, but it also includes the threat of a much more serious infection that can result in weeks of illness. Sometimes these illnesses can result in the permanent loss of lung function. The common cold is plain scary.
My cold lasted, from that first scratchy feeling in my throat, to the day I woke up feeling like myself again, exactly 38 days. Over five weeks. Here’s an outline of how my [un]common cold progressed:
Day 1: Uh oh…sore throat…the feeling of impending doom sets in. My poor husband is subjected to a great deal of my angst which is bubbling over as I see the worst case scenario playing out in my mind and sadly bid farewell to my six-month, illness-free streak.
Days 2-8: I sludge through the cold symptoms while trying to keep tabs on the health of my lungs. I worry. I ask Jaime 100 times a day if he thinks my cough sounds okay. It does. I try to relax.
Day 9: The virus hits my lungs. Each breath is a cacophony of various wheezes and hums and vibrations. I call the doctor and start on two oral antibiotics.
Days 10-16: I wait for my cough to improve. Still waiting. “Mommy, why are you spitting your fungus in the toilet?” Lucas asks. He tries to join me but he’s only got saliva in there. No fungus (or mucus) for him. I laugh and thank God for five-year olds. Still waiting on that cough. C’mon antibiotics, you can do it!
Day 17: My cough beings to improve. The Hallelujah Chorus plays in my mind. I try to join in. Yeah, my cough isn’t all the way better yet. I leave it to the angels and keep quiet.
Day 22: I can finally say my cough is back to normal. But this is already my last day of antibiotics. I take my last dose and hope it’s not too soon. Bye-bye security blanket.
Days 23-28: These are blessed days of feeling good. But I know what’s coming…
Day 29: The Adjustment Phase hits.
Days 30-38: I cough and cough and cough and cough (and cough). I have many wonderful friends, but this week, Motrin is my best friend. I need it to get through the day. I remind myself that this will pass. It will.
Day 39: It did! I wake up and realize I can make it through the day without Motrin! My cough is quieting. My muscles are less sore. I don’t have a headache. I’m through my cold and ready to start another illness-free streak. There’s that Hallelujah chorus again! I join in. It still sounds better in my head, so I decide to save that one for the shower.
The good news is that all things considered, this cold was relatively mild and manageable. I was able to function fairly well through it and I’m sitting here today, six weeks out, feeling good. I’m so very grateful for that! Perhaps an early cold this year will mean less illnesses overall this season. A girl can dream.