As I’ve mentioned on my blog over the past several months, I’ve been traveling a lot. I travel to the west coast frequently. One thing I’ve become wary of during my many trips are the sneezing, coughing and virally challenged multitudes I’m sharing my air with on the six hour plane ride from east to west coast and back again. Sometimes I wear a scarf around my neck so I can put it over my nose and mouth if someone particularly bubonic is sitting near me. Or small children, who are all bubonic, generally speaking.
But germs are microscopic. All that re-circulating air on the plane means even if Typhoid Manny is sitting ten rows away from me, his virulent strain of whatever could be wafting up my nose while I sit and unsuspectingly sip my Diet Cola beverage.
And this past Monday, on yet another plane ride from right to left, I felt a twinge of something sneaking into my lungs while I sat there, trapped in the center seat. I was sitting next to a guy whose left arm kept smacking into me as he rhymically played a video game for FOUR HOURS and a nice woman at the window seat reading from her electronic book.
By the time 48 hours had elapsed, I could feel “signs” increasing, body aches and a bit of a cough and some sneezing. I ran to the drugstore and stocked up on Zinc lozenges (known to boost the immune system and are supposed to shorten the length of a cold) and Echinacea, which is a cone flower plant extract from the Daisy family… also thought to reduce inflammation in the body and help boost the immune system.
But it was too late, I had already been infected. By Wednesday night I was really suffering. Yesterday I was so sick I could hardly get out of my hotel bed to go to the bathroom.
One thing I’ve learned to deal with (sort of) is getting sick on the road. It’s very unpleasant to not be in your own bed, but there are small advantages by having so many staff around to help you out when you’re down for the count. Just by poking my head into the hallway yesterday, the nice ladies who clean the rooms gave me an extra box of tissues. And when I ordered a bowl of soup from room service last night, the gentleman could see my state and said please call down later so I can bring you hot water for tea…
Needless to say, except for the gentleman who brought me my soup, I have not allowed anyone to enter the sick ward that is room 658. I’m holding my own at this point, and continuing to chomp zinc lozenges, Vitamin C, and chewable Echinacea tablets with the zeal of a homeopathic believer.
I’m pleased to report that while I am not better, I’m not as sick as I was yesterday. And since I’ll be in California this weekend and next week, I’m hopeful that by Sunday night this regimen will have served me well enough to get me back on my feet.
But while in my hospital… er, I mean hotel bed, I’m wondering if I should go online and buy surgical masks for the flight home?