“Oh, it’s just an ordinary, garden variety head cold.”
Really?
Back to the Latin root. Ordinary. “Of the usual order”, “of a kind to be expected in the normal order of events”. We should expect them? Probably, or never leave the house. No air travel for sure.
But I wouldn’t call them ordinary. There’s nothing “ordinary” about the contents of one’s head emptying into countless Kleenex, or that crawling cough in the throat that wracks the body to the point of muscle injury, or the semi-terminal sinus blockage that renders the nasal passages useless, or the wipe-out exhaustion as though Mt. Everest has just been summitted. For days and days, all I wanted to do was to snuggle up under my teddy bear quilt and sleep. My arsenal? Afrin, Delsym, Ibupropin and that eternal Kleenex box. Oh, and a very patient husband, who rubs my feet when I ask. Yes, he “caught” it. What an image that is. We share everything.
Now “common” is a more appropriate adjective. “Public, general or shared, in common”. We all seem to get them, and we do inadvertently share. Colds in community. I have no idea where I got this one, or who to blame. But I’m not the only one who’s been sick.
Surviving this two week adventure, and so grateful to be rebounding. Just happy to be flipping the calendar to April and watching the forsythia pop out as I breathe once again.