It had to happen.
It begins innocently enough with the scratchy throat. Then the stuffed-up nasal passages. The congestion in the lungs.
Then the cough. The incessant cough.
It had to happen when the weather turned. My body always responds to weather changes, even the slightest. (I sometimes joke that I’m a walking weather vane.) Of late, a chill has replaced the coldness in the air; the body registered the change.
Doesn’t help that my apartment is 96 years old, lacking insulation (which wasn’t required until later years), is comprised of brick and concrete that hold the cold dampness and on ground level to boot, so the wood floors hold that earthy dampness as well. If I moved out this instant, the landlords could rent it out as a meat locker.
Private health matters aren’t a matter for a public forum and that includes my long history and battle with respiratory issues. Suffice it to say then that I don’t get common colds. I jump directly from first grade to top of the senior high school class in all matters respiratory.
So in the past 24 to 38 hours, I’ve proceeded to leapfrog from first grade to sixth. The upshot’s this: For my health history and constitution, there’s no climate worse than cold dampness that’s driven deep into bones and tissue by absence of warmth and sunlight. This climate thus presents an insurmountable challenge in staying healthy.
I’m learned in all the tricks and tools of the respiratory trade. Ultimately, the best remedy remains the one that can’t be swallowed: