Oh sweet nostalgia :)
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Common Cold
My immune system has never really been worth bragging about. Infact, a local pandit had once suggested that I wear a pearl pendant cast in silver to appease the Gods that control the DNA of the rhinovirus. Bottles of big blue Ayurvedic tablets, disgusting yellow cod liver oil tablets and ounces of chywanprash that have tormented my taste buds as a child with false promises of strengthening my immunity. Now that I am studying law, I am contemplating to sue them. But that later.
So the rhinovirus which is the perpetrator of common cold loves me (like it hates me). The bitch of a virus that it is, it won't even succumb to Over the Counter (OTC) remedies. But honestly, do OTCs really work for you? I think they're just somnia inducing placebos that trick your body into waging the war against the single stranded creatures of destruction, without much help from external sources.
When the cycle of tingling gums, itchy nose, painful sinuses finally culminates into what Barney from How I Met Your Mother quotes as not sickness but awesomeness, for all practical purposes you wish you'd be restrained to your house. But since everything 'common' is regarded as trivial, so too with a cold you're expected to work as if nothing ever happened. People seldom show concern, nobody offers you a place in the public transport, nobody agrees to let you jump queues. Infact, people look at you with disgust- one of the perils of being affected by a contagious sickness. What you mean people don't realise is that the situation of my lungs is worse than freaking Afghanistan and there's a mini Iraq happening in my nose!
My day today began with blocked nasal passages and a voice that which refused to let me pronounce anything that contained the letters 'm' and 'n' properly. They say your heart skips a beat every time you sneeze. Thankfully, this is just a myth. Because by this logic I would've suffered a serious myocardial infarction today. ( Jazzy med vocabulary courtesy Greys Anatomy)
Also, I have never been able to understand why genetics would play such a cruel joke on me. If you go by Darwin's theory of Survival of the Fittest, shouldn't you ideally be acquiring the best genes from your parents? Not true, sire. The propensity to sneeze at arithmetical progressions has been imprinted in this poor soul's genetic makeup. For all (if any) and I say if any because they are too cool to be reading a blog full of randomness but if any geneticists/ bio technologist is reading this then it is a humble request to you to put a break on your research on modified brinjals and papayas and other such worthless fruit and work towards betterment of this condition.
For now though, my best friends include a box of tissues and the Otrivin nasal spray on my bedside table.
*atishoo*
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