I recently recovered from a virus that began as a cold and morphed into a sinus infection and then a cough. For approximately one month, all I wanted to do was stay in bed under the care of a kindly nurse and an around-the-clock Hot Toddy IV drip.
Colds used to be a minor annoyance when I worked in a “real” job, maybe because working there made me feel crappy even without a cold. Now I’m a writer with deadlines and book tours, and feeling crappy is a major problem.
However, at some point I had to resume my life. So, I doctored up with over-the-counter medications and off I went to my various book events, snuffling, coughing, and praying I wouldn’t sneeze on anybody’s signed first edition. At each affair, I followed proper cold etiquette. You know what I mean: obsessive-compulsive hand-washing and dabbing my proboscis daintily with a tissue. I even carried the regimen one step further and only blew my nose solo, because—you know—the sound is really icky.
I also nixed hand shaking, forewarning everybody that I had a cold. My Miss Manners behavior produced a cascade of responses from “Screw the cold. Gimme a hug” to the most disconcerting reaction of all—the speechless guy who backed away in horror, hands clutching his throat as if he was auditioning for the title role in “Aliens Redux.”
I was curious how other people dealt with nose etiquette, so I scoured the Internet for kindred spirits. Here’s a pithy pearl of wisdom from pediatrician Corinne Taylor, MD, of Emory University and Emory Children's Center, Atlanta. She said, "I make my child recite the three rules every day before preschool: I will use Kleenex, I will wash my hands, and I will stay away from anybody with snot."
Words to guide you through a cold-free life.
As a culture, we are obsessed with hygiene. We supply our bathrooms with individual guest towels because—God forbid—two people with clean hands might use the same towel. We hang charms around the stems of our wineglasses so our guests won’t drink from someone else’s goblet. Our grocery stores supply disinfectant wipes to scour our shopping carts (Don’t people wash their tomatoes once they get them home?). I once loaned my new lip-gloss to an acquaintance for a quick touch-up and afterward—based on a dire warning from a friend—threw it away.
A school of thought that maintains we use too many chemicals to kill germs in our world is gaining traction. Not long ago, I was visiting a home in Scandinavia occupied by a family with a one-year-old child. I watched as he played on a less-than-immaculate kitchen floor and ate kibble from the cat’s dish. I was aghast. The child’s mother noticed my discomfort and informed me she had recently uncovered research proclaiming that people had become too fastidious. Not only were they killing good germs but they were also exposing their children to excessive chemicals. If we continued, she warned, we would challenge our ability to fight infection. As a footnote, she told me her child had never been ill.
Where do we draw the line between caution and germophobia? Should we adopt a more laissez faire relationship with “bugs” or is there a drug-resistant killer germ luring on that innocent-looking guest towel, biding its time…waiting…watching.
I’ve been healthy for several weeks now. A couple of days ago my husband started sneezing and coughing. Did I say to him, “Screw the cold. Gimme a hug”? Or did I have an “Aliens Redux” moment? Let’s just say, somewhere out there is an Oscar with my name on it.
Happy Wednesday!
Colds used to be a minor annoyance when I worked in a “real” job, maybe because working there made me feel crappy even without a cold. Now I’m a writer with deadlines and book tours, and feeling crappy is a major problem.
However, at some point I had to resume my life. So, I doctored up with over-the-counter medications and off I went to my various book events, snuffling, coughing, and praying I wouldn’t sneeze on anybody’s signed first edition. At each affair, I followed proper cold etiquette. You know what I mean: obsessive-compulsive hand-washing and dabbing my proboscis daintily with a tissue. I even carried the regimen one step further and only blew my nose solo, because—you know—the sound is really icky.
I also nixed hand shaking, forewarning everybody that I had a cold. My Miss Manners behavior produced a cascade of responses from “Screw the cold. Gimme a hug” to the most disconcerting reaction of all—the speechless guy who backed away in horror, hands clutching his throat as if he was auditioning for the title role in “Aliens Redux.”
I was curious how other people dealt with nose etiquette, so I scoured the Internet for kindred spirits. Here’s a pithy pearl of wisdom from pediatrician Corinne Taylor, MD, of Emory University and Emory Children's Center, Atlanta. She said, "I make my child recite the three rules every day before preschool: I will use Kleenex, I will wash my hands, and I will stay away from anybody with snot."
Words to guide you through a cold-free life.
As a culture, we are obsessed with hygiene. We supply our bathrooms with individual guest towels because—God forbid—two people with clean hands might use the same towel. We hang charms around the stems of our wineglasses so our guests won’t drink from someone else’s goblet. Our grocery stores supply disinfectant wipes to scour our shopping carts (Don’t people wash their tomatoes once they get them home?). I once loaned my new lip-gloss to an acquaintance for a quick touch-up and afterward—based on a dire warning from a friend—threw it away.
A school of thought that maintains we use too many chemicals to kill germs in our world is gaining traction. Not long ago, I was visiting a home in Scandinavia occupied by a family with a one-year-old child. I watched as he played on a less-than-immaculate kitchen floor and ate kibble from the cat’s dish. I was aghast. The child’s mother noticed my discomfort and informed me she had recently uncovered research proclaiming that people had become too fastidious. Not only were they killing good germs but they were also exposing their children to excessive chemicals. If we continued, she warned, we would challenge our ability to fight infection. As a footnote, she told me her child had never been ill.
Where do we draw the line between caution and germophobia? Should we adopt a more laissez faire relationship with “bugs” or is there a drug-resistant killer germ luring on that innocent-looking guest towel, biding its time…waiting…watching.
I’ve been healthy for several weeks now. A couple of days ago my husband started sneezing and coughing. Did I say to him, “Screw the cold. Gimme a hug”? Or did I have an “Aliens Redux” moment? Let’s just say, somewhere out there is an Oscar with my name on it.
Happy Wednesday!
Patricia Smiley writes the Tucker Sinclair series about an L.A.-based amateur sleuth with a sense of humor and a nose for trouble. Her novels include FALSE PROFITS, COVER YOUR ASSETS, SHORT CHANGE, and the recently released COOL CACHE. Patty is also a Reserve Officer for the Los Angeles Police Department, currently assigned as a Burglary/Theft investigator. For more information, please visit www.patriciasmiley.com and www.nakedauthors.com (blog).
