WWhen I find out how other people get colds, I get a complex. We go to the market, buy soup vegetables and first of all cook a strong broth. They drink turmeric shots, take vitamin infusions and sometimes go for a walk in the park (you can wrap up thick).
And of course: there is also work to be done, at least a few e-mails and one call, that’s important. In between nasal douches and several inhalations, that’s clear. There must be so much energy. There are currently a lot of posts from people with a cold on Instagram: looking fresh, wrapped up in a clean hoodie, fresh cut flowers on the USM shelf in the background and the little dog ready to be cuddled. Hashtag #sicknessisstupid #makethebestofit.
As I write these lines (thank Ibu), I have a cold myself. 39 degrees fever, chills, bronchi completely closed, runny nose, body aches, red throat, antibiotics. Just to make that clear: Of course there are a number of much worse diseases, my flu infection will be over at some point. But once you’re in it, it feels pretty miserable. Chapeau to all those who are stuck at home with sick children in a maelstrom of all sorts of viruses at this time, I cry just thinking about it.
The handkerchiefs are gone
Anyway, I’ve never looked down on myself like I do at this moment. And today is my birthday. Usually the day of the year when I feel glamorous like a living legend. Last year I wore a glittery sequined pencil skirt and patent leather high heels, went to a spa hotel and celebrated with champagne and Black Forest cake. Lady Gaga meets Black Pink meets Marcus Prinz von Anhalt (my face was red from the sauna and the alcohol). After a year of plowing through, I found: I’m entitled to it.
This year’s scenario: I’m lying in bed, the down in the crumpled blanket is only at the foot end, and everything is soaked with sweat. There are used handkerchiefs lying around me, or rather they are toilet paper because my handkerchiefs have run out. (By the way, also the last role.)
What would people do who were in control of their lives? Exactly, place a small trash can on her bedside table. Unfortunately I don’t have a bedside table. All the teacups, thermos flasks, tangerine peels, flip bags, chocolate wrappers and Kellogg’s bowls are vegetating on the floor by my side of the bed. That reveals a lot about my culinary preferences when I’m sick. Instead of soup I want doner kebab and coke.
My self-esteem goes down with every commercial
Showering is not an option when you have a fever. If your body has goosebumps all the time anyway, you can’t expose yourself to wet hair. As a result, my hair could be photographed as a negative example for every shampoo commercial. The moment the disease struck manifested itself in my eye make-up, as I haven’t managed to properly remove my make-up since then. Unfortunately, that doesn’t give me a sensuous “smokey-eyes look”, but I look like a pale undertaker. Again to compare: Normally at this time I would be in a celebratory pose at the cork popping. Instead, I’m in a semi-recumbent position, with my head leaning against the bed frame, complete with a double chin.
What I do? I’ve got my phone in my hand, a podcast is on, and I’m playing Candy Crush. And for a very long time. Every time I click “watch a commercial to get a new life” and my podcast is interrupted, my self-esteem scale drops a few points. I could at least sleep or have a smoothie, but indulge in such a waste of time?!
Now comes the big but: In the end I usually get well again quickly and somehow look back nostalgically on my cold time. How I simply surrendered to my weak state. In my own lazy way.
“#makethebestoutofit” and turmeric shots are overrated. Sometimes self-care also means making peace with your own neglect. Not comparing yourself to other cold overperformers. Maybe air it out, maybe wash your face. But maybe just not.