The rhinovirus

The  rhinovirus is the scourge of human kind. Whilst we can mask the symptoms with paracetamol or a codeine syrup (my particular favourite)  until we’re as high as kites, science isn’t anywhere close to curing the world of the common cold.

This week was meant to be triumphant for me, with a much awaited achievement scheduled to come my way. In the professional front. Instead I was laid low, reduced to a shivering, sniveling mess by you guessed it – the godforsaken ‘cold’ virus. On Monday I was primed to make my glorious entrance in the meeting with the management of the hospital which pays my salary (with an employer other than my husband). I had purchased a swag of stylish threads (including my first Vero Moda top) and was ready to rock into my new office like I owned the entire building. I was very excited about the prospect of being in a workplace where I wasn’t expected to sleep with the boss.

This is going to sound kinky ( way kinkier than Fifty Shades of Grey, not quite as kinky as Game of Thrones) but I was eager to make this new company’s accounts my bitch.  To my eyes there’s nothing more elegant than a set of reconciled bank accounts and a balanced ledger. (Wait a minute – there’s Tom Hiddleston in slim fitting dacks…..)

In the preceding week I’d enjoyed my last few days of freedom. I’d sent my kids to school despite their sniffles and protestations that they had sore throats. I whiled away the hours in typical Panchsheel Enclave Housewives' fashion – lunching, shopping and watching the remaining episodes of FRIENDS. It was wonderful but on the weekend karmic retribution hit hard. The fatigue, the aches and pains, the constant tickle in the throat, the wheezing and the alternate fevers and chills. By Sunday my delicate condition had worsened. Yet as a parent I could not afford the luxury of retiring to my bed. Instead I suffered the indignity of swimming lessons and a trip to the library. At that stage there was only a slurp of sauvignon blanc left and opening a new bottle on school night not an option. Unable to launch an alcoholic blitzkrieg upon my lurgy, evening was spent huddled under a doona on the couch watching a skinny dinosaur of a model  drinking herbal tea (read:TV ad). Sadly not even the sight of John Abraham in briefs could cure my malaise. I turned in at an absurdly early hour hoping I could sleep it off.

Unfortunately the intense gaze of John Abraham can not cure the common cold.

No cigar! I awoke on Monday morning, my first day at work, feeling like pure cowdung. There was nothing for it but to soldier on with a good dose of codeine. Getting kids out of the door is exhausting at the best of times. When you are sick and they are sick its a killer. The whole thing descends into an orgy of self-pity and hypochondria. Apart from the usual shenanigans like forgetting to get dressed because they are too busy whacking one another, the kids gave me a hearty serving of Mummy guilt. “But why do you need to go to work Ma? Can you make sure you pick me up early? I really need to get home early to do my homework”. Cripes! They’ve had it far too good for too long.

I had a taste of Mummy guilt pie.

Somehow I managed to dress myself and everyone else and dump them at the school gate by 8.30 am before staggering onto the bus. Of course seats were at a premium and I was forced to perch my butt next to an overweight gentleman who was also suffering from the godforsaken rhinovirus. In fact the whole bus coughed, sputtered and wheezed its way into town. I lurched into the office like a drunk pretending to act straight, doing my best to be appropriately perky and enthusiastic. The ironic thing was that everyone else in the office had the by-now-familiar rhinovirus. The place was littered with boxes of tissues and we collectively swilled endless cups of tea. At lunch I gulped down a bowl of mysterious soup hoping the chilli and garlic would provide a miracle cure.

That evening I collapsed. Four shrill you alarms couldn’t rouse me at 8.30pm to watch a pirated episode of Game of Thrones.  The rest of the week was a case of wash, rinse and repeat. I’ve been slurping down chilli fuelled soups, drinking tea like its going out of style and chomping on Strepsils by the packetful. I still feel like crapola. Balancing work and family is hard. Balancing work and family when you have cold is nigh impossible? I repeat – science you need to stop sending probes into inter galactic space and focus on the blight of mankind – the GODFORSAKEN common cold.

How are you coping with the juggle? Can something as simple as a cold throw you completely off balance!