I Hab A Cowd

Well, it was bound to happen eventually. I came down with a cold and it knocked me on my patriotic patootie.

It started on Monday, when I went to the gym and was a little surprised that I didn't really want to be there. I pressed on anyway, figuring it was just mental fatigue that would go away once I got moving. After using the rowing machine for a while, then doing some weights, I got on the treadmill and could barely force myself do run 3K. Just two days earlier, I'd done a 10K without much difficulty. Something physical was definitely up, and I figured it must be that I hadn't really recovered from Saturday's race yet. Yeah, that wasn't it.

Everyone here has a little cough most of the time, but on Monday mine was a little more persistent than usual. Just enough to get my attention, but not enough to really stand out. In hindsight these were early symptoms, not that I probably could have done anything about them anyway.

Tuesday morning arrived and I felt bad enough to say something to my roomie ("I don't feel great"). Chalked it up to the bad air and went off to breakfast for some toast and tea. Made it through my briefing to the Commander and did the zombie-shuffle back to my office.

I was scheduled to give a training briefing at 1030. Sitting at my desk at 0900, my magnificent brain went into overdrive trying to predict whether I could make it to 1030, or whether I'd be able to get up again if I went to bed for a while. This was a difficult thing to figure out.

Suddenly, because I'm a genius, I realized I could go to the training session RIGHT NOW and beg permission to do my bit early... so I did and I did.

Back in my room, I was in bed by 0945 and restlessly slept until 1500 (that's 3pm for you civilians). A headache came and went, and around noon I wondered if it would be worth the effort to get a Tylenol or two from my wardrobe, which was inconveniently located almost a full half step beyond the edge of my bed. After a 30 minute debate, I decided to man up and make the trek. Tylenol ingested, back to bed I went.

The thought of some soup for lunch briefly awakened me, but I was pretty wiped out from the Tylenol Trek. Plus, going to the DFAC would have involved putting a uniform on (they frown on wandering through the line in my pj's). Plus, I wasn't hungry. And I didn't know what kind of soup they'd be serving. Imagine getting all the way there and it's some thick, cheesy soup. That would be the opposite of helpful.

So I spent most of the rest of the afternoon in bed, trying to decide whether I was hot or cold. Then apparently the germs gave up, because around 3:00 I was awake and feeling almost human. It felt like I'd been licking Afghanistan, but at least it was in the past tense. I cautiously turned on the light, read Wired magazine for a while, then pulled on a uniform and ambled over to the office in slow motion, mostly to see if I'd got any mail (answer: yes!). An early dinner led to an early return to the room where I got to Skype with my honey and had the clearest video ever ('cause nobody else was online).

Then back to bed early - hopefully to knock this cold out once and for all.