Extreme Cold Grips Phoenix

Heh..heh..I figured that headline might get  your attention.

No..the weather out here in the Arizona desert has been sunny and warm. I, on the other hand have been gloomy and ill almost since we arrived with a demonic cold that has nearly worn me out both physically and mentally.

I have hesitated to say anything either via the blog or Facebook; concerned, of course, about the reaction I’d get pointing out the obvious irony of my situation. No it isn’t lost on me that we flew 15 hundred miles to escape one of the coldest stretches ever to a place enjoying near record warmth only to be cooped up inside a bedroom for days on end fighting a cold war with my body.

It began innocently enough, around January 3^rd with sneezing; lots and lots of sneezing..along with itchy watery eyes. I’ve never had allergies but now I had all the symptoms so we headed to the drug store for appropriate remedies. Didn’t help.

Pretty soon, I started getting a tickling sensation deep inside my lungs followed by long uncontrolled coughing jags. This was no allergy but something all too familiar; a mighty old foe who shows up every few years to put me in my place; to help me ponder mortality even more than I already do and to maybe better appreciate what I already have..

My view for the last umpteen days

Sounds serious doesn’t it?

Well, I tend to get a little dramatic when I get sick with something I’ve had before and know takes a long time to run its course. Days and nights become interchangeable as I do battle with the evil Mr. Phlegm trying to get him to let go of my windpipe. The only weapons in my arsenal are Vick’s VapoRub, bottles of Robitussin, throat lozenges, liquids a sympathetic wife…oh and the ability to cough. I have coughed till I’m literally blue in the face..coming close to passing out on several occasions. Whenever some of the green phlegm army is eliminated, replacements are at the ready for immediate service at the front. Stomach muscles become sore and eventually every cough brings a sharp pain to the brain that has you searching for the surrender flag. Rest comes more from passing out than going to sleep. Exhausted, I lay there listening to the wheeze as I exhale. Sometimes it sounds like a lonesome coyote howling at the moon; so common out here in the DesertCanyon area. Sometimes it sounds like a single note from a violin..then other notes join in..then more until it becomes that annoying orchestra practice montage before a concert. Then the dreams come..so real and so bizarre. Then a cough jolts me awake and I need to sit up and do battle with the evil Mr. Phlegm for awhile..then, exhausted, fall back on my other side and drift off to the lullaby of out of tune violins coming from my clogging chest cavity.

After a few days and nights  of this I began to look like Tim Conway as the Old Man on the Carol Burnett Show..mumbling and shuffling from room to room with hair standing straight up. I was also losing strength and had no appetite at all which is REALLY unusual for me.

Naturally, I began  thinking about how my brother Denny had similar symptoms leading up to his demise so It was time to force myself to get better and get out of the condo..either to see a doctor or go shopping. I chose Safeway.

Although still in a bit of a daze, it did feel good to get out in the sunshine, especially for Linda, who between stints caring for my sorry arse, has about worn out the screen on her NOOK reader..consuming book after book;  sometimes…but not often enough..sitting outside on the sun drenched patio.

We took a little spin around this pretty community..went down to the fountain and sat on a bench by the lake like a couple old farts watching birds and retired couples power walking.  Oh, hey you single guys…lots and lots of lonely wealthy widows down here looking for a man. Must love dogs.

The Fountain Hills Fountain only goes off 15 minutes every hour..so our timing was off on this visit.

Linda’s just glad for a few moments out of our germ infested cough shack.

I’m just glad that..well, Bounty is a better picker upper.

Even though neither of us had consumed that much, Linda and I still wound up with a cart-full of stuff at Safeway and by check-out, I was really ready to recline. I was also in desperate need of the rest room because one of the nasty side-effects of profound, prolonged coughing, extensive medication and selective eating is..well, diarrhea..and I felt a potentially embarrassing sneeze coming on so I sped to the Loo only to discover a WOMAN in there washing her hands!  What in the name of all that’s holy is going on? That’s what I thought to myself for a millisecond before it dawned on me that I may have entered the incorrect lavatory. Thank the good Lord the woman at the well never turned around or even looked up at the mirror to notice the fat male intruder with grey hair..beard, a red nose and wearing a Keloland TV sweatshirt. I skedaddled out of there as if Oral Roberts, himself, had laid a healing hand on me and..after carefully examining the stick figure on the next door and saw it didn’t appear to be wearing a skirt..I entered and took care of business.

Fortunately, retelling the episode to my dear Linda waiting outside with our groceries, brought a wonderful laugh that made us both feel better. That feeling lasted until we got home and I was able to make her giggle once again. We’re using our desert daughter Christy’s Ford Edge while in Arizona. I’m not familiar with all its gizmos and after we’d unloaded all the groceries, I went to re-attach that web gate thing. I had the keys in my pocket and accidentally bumped the automatic rear gate close button..narrowly escaping with my life. It was like Jaws and I was the boat captain about to be gobbled up.

Ah, well..feeling a little better each day. Even went to the Barrett-Jackson Classic Car Auction by myself. That’s a story in itself. I’ll tell it..complete with a few pictures next time.

Ta Ta for now.

Oh no..Linda just sneezed and has been coughing a little this morning.