Well, it’s been a jam packed 24 hours but the first leg of my surprise Christmas return is underway!

Over the past few days I’ve started to develop the old head cold (boo). Saturday I woke up and with a sore throat; the first sign that something is not right. So, naturally, I pump myself full of as much orange juice as possible. Believing, of course, that vitamin C is a miracle cold killer (not to mention hangover cure). However, despite the OJ overload, I know what to expect in the next few days. Sunday morning, I wake up to the dreaded second stage of the head cold; congestion, dry mouth from lack of nasal breathing, and something new and different for me, no voice? Interesting. A soar throat progression I have not experienced since 1st year university, where I learned to harness the gravelly voice to amuse my friends.

I go to work as normal on Saturday, regaining my voice on the way by singing along to my iPod. I have fun with my co-workers, as I always do, except the fun is interrupted more often by trips to the paper towel dispenser to blow my nose. I use more hand sanitizer today than any other day of my life, cumulatively. Although I am uncomfortable, I work as I always do, if not a little bit slower. I smile to all the customers and politely entertain all the “Oh, you’re not from here, are you?” comments. It is business as usual at the Pasty Shop, as it should be.

I go home that night and start packing my bag to go to Canada. I have to work 8 hours each day for the next two days, including 8-4 on Monday, with a 4:30 train to London that afternoon. I know if I don’t pack now I’ll run out of time. While packing, I come across some decongestant medicine; I think it will be a good idea to keep it handy.

That night goes by quickly and I go to bed at a reasonable time. When I wake up on Sunday morning I feel awful. My head feels like it is being pumped full of air and I can still feel a headache from the night before. I roll out of bed and put on some clothes from the hamper (some of the only things I haven’t packed yet). After stumbling around my room for awhile, zombie-like, I test out the old voice box. It works, at least that’s an improvement. Unfortunately, unlike the day before, I don’t regain the use of my nostrils today. While at work, my manager jokes with me as we both reach for the paper towel to blow our respective noses. I always like to stay light hearted, so it is nice that my manager does, too. After all, what’s the use of complaining? No one is going to be able to cure you. A cold is just one of those things that has to run its course.

Fortunately for me, or perhaps unfortunately, I have come to know my body’s progression through common cold symptoms. Stage 1, sore throat; stage 2, head congestion; stage 3, head congestion combined with a dry cough; stage 3.5, recently I have been lucky enough to experience post-nasal drip, where you feel like you have to blow your nose but you can’t, except your nose is still running, just down your throat instead of down your face. Charming, I know. But the best part of this new development is feeling like your going to vomit at regular intervals throughout the day. Stage 4, a hacky, phlegmy cough (perfect for the food service industry); stage 5, the let up of each of these symptoms until finally you’re back to normal.

Well, lucky for me I am onto stage 3.5 by Saturday. The potential good news, this cold shouldn’t last more than a week. The bad news is tomorrow will be the nasty cough. Tomorrow, when I have to work 8-4, the sandwich making shift, and then sit on a train in close proximity to strangers for two hours. The coughing usually leaves me with two options, swallowing wads of phlegm that I just coughed up, or spitting into an appropriate, nearby receptacle. While both options are gross, I prefer option two because it’s less gross for me (sorry everyone else).

Between bouts of dizziness and overheating, I am growing more concerned about the next day. Especially since I already know that every employee who can work weekdays is already working. I know this because before I booked my train ticket for that afternoon I had tried, to no avail, to find someone willing to take my shift that day. I was hoping to take an earlier train to London so I could do some sight-seeing before it got dark. But, like I said, there was just no one to take it. And so, defeated, I booked a 4:30 train, giving me enough time to get to the station after my 8-4 shift.

Meanwhile, with more and more mucus gathering in my head, my manager that day suggests that I call in sick. To which I replied, Well that will look really suspicious considering everyone knows I’m going home tomorrow. He tells me to call the owner that evening to let him know I’m not feeling well and it might affect tomorrow.  I’ve never called in sick to work so I am weary of the whole process, plus telling people things they don’t want to hear always makes me nervous. We work the rest of the day and I decide to go to the other shop at the end of my shift to talk to someone about potentially being away the next day.

When I get there with my co-worker the owner was just leaving; we exchange hellos as he walks out the door. I am too nervous to stop him there to chat so I just smile and let him leave. Fortunately, the owner’s son is there working, so I tell him my concern and footnote it with, What do you think I should do? After looking at the schedule and again concluding that everyone was already working he finally says, “My dad will probably do it for you.” He tells me to call back in 30 minutes to talk to his dad. So, I go home thinking this might work out after all.