The Gadders Guide to Surviving a Cold

I thought I'd avoided it - my usual tactic of drinking more red wine, taking a couple of all-in-one capsules and a spray of First Defence up the hooter had seemed to be enough to stave off the usual post-work lurgy. However, a combination of a drop in temperature and more free time spent in the company of a cute but contagious three year old niece has conspired against me, and I've had a stinking Bank holiday cold to contend with.

Bad Points: There is nothing good about being ill during your holidays.
Reasons to be Cheerful: I don't have to set any cover or feel any guilt about missing classes. I'm on holiday!

In the spirit of focusing on the positive, here are my ten things that make rhinovirus hosting more bearable:

The first items should go straight on your shopping list if you feel that tell-tale tickle and you start sneezing all the time.

1. Tissues

Obviously. You will hugely regret it if you run out of these. Buy a shedload. Make sure they're decent quality too - nasty little flimsy ones or ones that are scratchy will drive you to violence.

2. Olbas oil 

Some people like Vicks, but I prefer to stick a few drops of this in some hot water and inhale the steam. There is a good chance that it does very little to actually heal you, but it feels nice. All the gungey backed-up sinus passages in your mucus-filled head are like windows in a Parisian apartment being thrown open on the first day of spring. (Until the water cools down and you start feeling a bit cold in your world-beneath-a-towel - then it's time to get out of there.)

3. Lip salve or Vaseline.

Because it's inevitably going to happen. All that mouthbreathing and nosewiping is going to make you into a crusty-faced space monkey. Head off the worst of the damage if you can (rather than doing what I do and chewing your dried out lips as though it isn't going to make them really sore).

4. Fruit juice

So you'd stopped buying it because did you know, people think it's good for them but it's actually really high in sugar, there's like less sugar in a bottle of Coke, a Lion bar and a massive stick of rock than there is in one of those tiny cartons you used to have in your lunchbox. Probably.

But you're ill. All diet bets are off when your immune system is at war! Get some vitamin C in your corner!

5. Soup

Some people specifically like chicken soup when they're ill. I tend to lean more towards tomato. But basically if it's hot and wet it's going to go down amazingly well. As it were.

6. Tinned Peaches

This one might just be me...when I had measles as a kid and couldn't keep much of anything down, this was the one thing that I requested. It's a bit of a family joke now that this is my ill-food. Even as an adult, I find it quite a comforting thing to eat. Sweet, really easy on a sore throat, and they contain plenty of vitamins. Peachy. As it were.

7. Hot chocolate

I can keep this in the kitchen cupboard and not touch it for months at a time, but out of the blue, when I have a cold, I get a bit obsessed with it. It's hot, it's sweet, and all of a sudden I'm not bothered by the calorie content because who needs to watch their weight when they're already a dead-eyed crusty-faced snot-zombie anyway?

8. Ginger wine and whisky

Again, this one might be just me. In fact, I'm not convinced anyone outside my family actually buys, drinks or enjoys ginger wine. Still, as far as I'm concerned, nothing helps with that flagging feeling late in the evening like a sup of Whisky Mac.

How to enjoy a Whisky Mac experience

1. Get a glass.

2. Put a shot of whisky in it.

3. Put a shot of ginger wine in it.
4. Drink it.

5. Enjoy the exciting sensations of the ginger & whisky vapour combo blowing through your sinuses and into your poor ravaged throat. Feel all warm and nice.              6. Pretend you're a dragon or something. (Note: if you have more than three, you may start to actually believe this.)                                   

One note of caution - for some reason if I drink this I like to turn my music up loud. I don't know if it has some kind of temporary ear unblocking effect, but it can upset neighbours. Forewarned is forearmed.

The last two things on the list don't involve shopping, so can be enjoyed by germ-incubators on a tight budget.

9. Hot baths

.... Jo Brand?

Usually I prefer a shower. However, when I have a cold, I can't wait to get in the bath. I like some nice bubbly stuff (that I can't smell properly) and plenty of water.

I usually find it very hard to judge the temperature when I have the lurgy. Often I'll get in and only then realise that it's nuclear. But soon it's fine...it's warm...the steam's rising, clearing my head, heating my circulation...and relax!

Sooner or later I mess it up by forgetting that, tempting as it is to splash warm water on my face, I gets cold when it starts evaporating and then the snuffling starts all over again. Then it's just a matter of time before I abandon tub. Won't be long before I want to get back in though.

10. Hibernation and Nest Management

The instinct to hunker in my bunker when I have a cold is a strong one. This makes good evolutionary sense - I want to stay away from people I could potentially infect and in a place where I can easily manage my symptoms efficiently and therefore survive. 

Also, if I'm ill my tolerance level for any kind of noise or nonsense from other humans drops through the floor. In addition I go all grey in hue and I make deeply unsexy noises when I attempt basics like respiration. 

So hibernation suddenly is a very appealing option (I prefer the term "hibernation" to alarmist terms such as "quarantine", or "infection control", for example). But it's not enough just to stay in - no no! I like to make a nest!

How to make a nest

1. Select an appropriate site. This might be a bed, or a sofa. (Clue - if you're having trouble deciding, it's a toss-up between which is most comfortable and which has the best TV).

2. Dress appropriately for the occasion. Acceptable items of clothing are dressing gowns, PJs, massive jumpers, jogging bottoms, leggings. Basically, if it doesn't allow you to effortlessly make the transition between wakefulness and dozing, it's no good to you now. Cut it loose.

3. Bring the following items to the nesting site: a) tissues; b) water; c) snacks; d) all remote controls that might feasibly be required at any point; e) DVDs that you've been waiting to watch/ laptop computer in the event that all channels are showing unwatchable daytime tat instead of Frasier as they rightfully should; f) phone; g) good book; h) duvet.

4. Arrange items within reaching distance. Sit/lie down. Cover yourself with duvet.

5. Promise yourself that you never need move again. Sigh and feel all satisfied that your hardships are over.

6. Get up 5 mins later and go to the toilet due to all the fluids you've been drinking. Put some socks on because your feet are chilly.

7. Go back to the nest. Stick on the DVD of that important and worthwhile film you've been meaning to watch for months.

8. Snooze through most of it, because ultimately, what you need more than anything else on this list to get better is some proper rest.

9. Wake up suffocating because you're too congested to sleep properly. Drink a lot of water.

10. Repeat from 4 until 9 doesn't happen, you actually get some sleep and you start feeling like a human again.

11. Reach the point where you're all like "Yeah, had a bit of a cold last week. Feel fine now though! Let's go white water rafting this weekend!"

12. Totally forget what the whole experience was like...until the next time...