By Chris Carter

I have a cold. In other words, I’m dying…

That might seem a bit over-dramatic, but if you ever had one of those colds that completely takes you DOWN, you’ll understand. That’s the one. It’s like a slow, painful death, really.

It starts with a sore throat. And you think, “Huh, this sucks.” But you go on and ignore it as best you can while you continue mothering. Because you have to. And let’s face it: we women don’t like to be knocked down.

You go and go and go…

Your throat closes in, your head starts to throb, and your body begins to feel that achy fatigue that gives those clear warning signs you are nearing defeat.

Until one day you wake up with the bus officially parked on top of you.

You are sick with one big, fat, messy, no good, terrible, awful, merciless cold.

I don’t think we give colds the respect they deserve. I mean, a cold is just such a flimsy word that conveys basically “the sniffles,” right? It sounds so harmless, flaky almost.  We need to honor this monster with a word that more accurately portrays what really happens to the victims of this perpetual agonizing attack on our innocent immune systems. I spent way too much time trying to come up with a great word, because I’m surely not thinking clearly with all that mucous mess all up in me. When I Googled ‘Medical term for a cold,’ I got:

Nasopharyngitis or Rhinopharyngitis.  I suppose those terms sound a bit better, so I will be referring to my sickness with both of these words from now on.

I want to whine and moan and groan and stay in bed all day long.

But ain’t nobody got time for that.

Moms don’t get to whine or complain or cancel being a mom, now, do they? Even though it seems a grenade has gone off in my head and I have fourteen layers of clothes on but still feel chilled to the bone, things are going to get done.

The laundry will get done, the house will be run effectively and I will keep things well organized as only a mom can do. Meals will be made and appointments kept and I’ll get the kids to school and pick them up and take them to their designated activities and help them with homework, no matter how close to death I am feeling.

That’s just what mothers do.

I only needed a place to whine and moan and groan for a minute before I go get the clothes out of the dryer and start packing lunches. I’m guessing if you are a mom and you have survived the Naso/Rhinopharyngitis while rearing your kids, you can surely relate and empathize with my plight.

When do we get time to have our own pity party? Well, I’m having mine now. I ache all over and the fatigue is worse than my first trimester with both my pregnancies. I have an open sore in my right nostril from all the boogers that keep cracking and drying up on that side. My eyes are burning and watering, and when I cough, I can’t stop. This is the worst case of  Naso/Rhinopharyngitis EVER.

I took care of my girl with this deathly virus for almost three weeks. She had it bad. It’s no wonder why I have it, because we moms hold our babies when they’re sick. We tend to their coughing spells and mucous vomit all through the night while thinking we are invincible.

We’re not.

Sigh…

Well, that laundry isn’t gonna fold itself, now, is it? Gotta go pack those lunches and tidy up the kitchen.

And when I finish doing my motherly duties, I will look forward to a nice, large dose of Nyquil.

I’ll take an extra swig for all you moms out there who are also mothering your kids and dying of Naso/Rhinopharyngitis, too.

We got this, moms. We got this.

*****

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