Monday, December 26, 2011

Taking it a little too far.

So I have a cold.

Let me back up a bit here. First of all, after having denied it for years, I am compelled to finally admit that I am a hypochondriac. But I am a particularly unique subset of hypochondriac, to wit, the type of hypochondriac who is simultaneously convinced that they have a disease, preferably a terrible, exotic, and/or incurable disease, and yet will not go to the doctor.

It is incredibly hard to get me to go to the doctor. A few years ago I got a pretty awful sore throat and attempted to home-medicate myself with ginger (natural antibacterial!) and pineapple. The combination chased the infection away from my throat, it's true, but sent it right up into my ear and resulted in an ear infection so severe that it required two courses of horse pill antibiotics and left me deaf and off-balance for over a month.

Oh, and I also coughed up a golf-ball sized glob of..I don't even know what to call it. Satan incarnate? Pure, concentrated evil? Anyway, it decided to evacuate my sinuses while I was driving sixty miles an hour down the parkway towards work. Since I'm not really very sure exactly how my skull is fabricated, I can only assume that there is a massive cavity somewhere behind my nasal bridge but in front of my brain, located in such a way that I can simultaneously snort/cough up said glob of completely horrifying stuff.

Seriously. This was like something that you'd find feeding off of the crew in a movie whose synopsis starts with "On a routine salvage mission..."

See where I'm going with this? I will lie on the couch and emit a nonstop, high-frequency wail of sadness for myself whilst simultaneously texting everyone with the latest thing I've diagnosed myself with in an attempt to garner more pity. But I won't actually go see a doctor.

So. I'm pretty sure it's just a cold, and I haven't used a neti pot lately, so it's probably not brain-destroying amoebas. But I'm chewing down Halls vitamin C drops, and while I appreciate their misguided attempt to make me feel better, I completely do not understand what they're trying to do with their "pep talk in every drop" (trademarked!) spiel here.

Here's a sample: "Inspire envy!"

Really? My nose is red and scaly from constantly wiping it, I'm leaving behind a trail of snot like a giant snail, and I can't breathe without either a high-pitched nasal whistle or leaving my mouth hanging open. "Flex your can-do muscle!" Are you serious, Halls?! My can-do muscle is fully occupied can-doingly handing me Kleenex and renuking the same cup of tea three or four times, which could probably be used to culture another biological weapon.

"Get back in the game!" If by game you mean the ability to sleep with my mouth closed so I don't leave a puddle of drool on the pillow, then yes, I am totally all about getting back in the mouth-closed-sleeping-game. "You've survived tougher!" Yes, that's true, but I bought these overpriced fortified candies because I was feeling sorry for myself, not because I wanted a drill sergeant to motivate me to get off the couch and change into something other than snot-encrusted, kitty-cat printed pajamas whose cuffs I've been using as an alternative Kleenex when the effort of getting another box of tissues proves too arduous.

I know you probably have a high-paid team of advertising gurus coming up with this stuff, but let me suggest a new, kinder, gentler Halls: "Poor baby. This is totally the worst cold anyone has had, ever." "It is totally acceptable to periodically call your parents and boyfriend and whine over the phone about how bad you're feeling." "Definitely eat that entire carton of ice cream. It probably has healing properties." "It's totally okay to wipe your nose on your T-shirt. It's softer than your tissues, anyway."

Thanks, Halls. I feel better already.


  1. Sorry you are feeling poorly. It takes a lot of fluid to make snot, drink as much clear liquid as possible. Feel better!

  2. I'm wondering if I stick soda straws in my nose, will that help me breathe better?

  3. That sounds like the WORST cold anyone has ever had, EVER! Feel better, pumpkin.

  4. In theory the straws sound like it'd be a solution, but it doesn't work like that. Would make a funny pic, though!