7:PM Tennisfiend’s cold becomes exponentially worse. Fiendish propaganda from the Vick’s and Robitussin did not deceive us, especially after $22 of medicine seems to actually increase his coughing and sneezing.
Midnight Continued and interminable coughing and misery for Tennisfiend. When he’s awake I pour infusions of red hibiscus, honey and lemon down his throat. When he’s asleep, I listen to him cough and wriggle, outlining the nasty letter I will to write Theraflu in my head.
3:AM After three hours of composing mental letters and contemplating smothering my mate with a pillow, I drag my fool self up to bake muffins and get some work done. Clicking away on the computer, I can hear muffled coughing in the background. I feel ashamed for being (temporarily) unsympathetic.
7:AM Miracle cold improvement! Sunlight vanquishes his worst symptoms. I theorize that his cold is a purely a nighttime phenomenon genetically engineered and mass distributed by big business to sell Nyquil and Robitussin p.m. After breakfast, I take a nap before starting my own busy day.
11:AM So much for my theory. He left work early and I crawled into bed to sleep for the remainder of the afternoon. I’m cranky, so to increase my suffering, I pick up when my Mom calls.
4:PM I suck. Can’t get any quality work done and I’m preoccupied with getting sick. I make chicken noodle soup for Tennisfiend and take vitamin C. Succumbing to irritability; I become petulant, ruminating on how aggravating my mother is and avoiding reaching out to my savior, Ewbliette.
7:PM The vampire cold is back, but watching the Australian Open has but a big smile on Tennisfiend’s face. He insists that I sleep in my office until his coughing subsides. (Yay!) I drag out our two Aerobeds hoping that one will inflate and we divvy up our bedroom accoutrements. Custody of the vaporizer, air purifier and ginormous down comforter go to Tennisfiend, while I walk off with our dog Misty and four pillows.
8:PM Both airbeds fail. Further investigation revealed that a release valve was improperly closed, so one bed was finally salvaged.
8:30 Dogs love airbeds.
9:PM Bedtime! The evening has taken on an adventuresome aspect. Next to my Aerobed, our camping clock and a flashlight wait expectantly. If I had graham crackers and marshmallows, I’d make S’mores and put on some bug spray. I read Cosmos for a half hour and turn in.
12:30 AM Brrrr! Sleeping on an air mattress is like sleeping on a glacier. I can feel my body heat slowly draining away. I place an extra fuzzy blanket over the mattress and that does the trick. The bedroom light is on and Tennisfiend coughs in the background. I make us some herbal tea, but he’s asleep when I bring it to him.
4:AM Sleeping on an air mattress is like sleeping on a melting glacier. The bed has partially deflated, so I wake up with my butt making floor contact. For some reason, this seems outrageously hilarious. Filling the bed makes a racket that startles Misty into an alarmed grunt, adding to my amusement.
8:AM Tennisfiend calls in sick for work and after breakfast we both go back to bed. My nose tickles and throat is sore. I wonder if I will be sleeping in my office when it’s my turn to cough all night. Probably so. I’ll add graham crackers and marshmallows to my shopping list.