One of the downsides of living alone is that, when you get sick, you do have to fend for yourself.
Nothing serious, thankfully. I imagine if I had, say, COVID-19 now, the logistics would've been extra difficult. When I knew I was going to catch that bug - it was during that three-month period; she had it first, and it was a matter of time - it was I who went out to do the groceries and sort the laundry as soon as we confirmed it. I was masked, of course. I'm not that reckless. But I knew that if we were going to be stuck here at home for a week, we might as well have no piles of laundry and no unnecessary reliance on food delivery.
But there is the catch. I had to do the cooking. Now, I have to do the cooking. Sure, this is a different bug. That flu bug, or whatever that is, that's been going around the past few weeks, I assume. All I've had is a cold, which almost always transitions into a dry cough. I'm in that stage as I write this, and I'm certain it means I'm on the mend.
Of course you have to be prepared. You need to have basic medicines at hand. Cough medicine, of course; I'll need it anyway because I'm asthmatic. Cold medicine - "Decolgen lang ang puwede sa may high blood," my mother would say. Vicks Vaporub. My mother would remind me - and I would remember this as well, because I've gone through this over and over again as a kid - to always apply some of the salve in my chest. Easy enough to do by yourself, but whenever I lift up my shirt to slather the thing on my chest, I remember that television ad for Vaporub years ago. "Touch therapy." I'm doing it to myself. Isn't that awkward, or sad?
My mom would also tell me to put Vicks on the soles of my feet. And don't forget to put socks on. Supposedly it helps your body expel the snot better when you wake up. I'm honestly not sure how it works, or if it really does. But when Nat caught the bug when she stayed over a few weeks ago, I told her about the whole Vicks on your soles thing. She said it didn't make a difference.
The other opponent is your inevitable laziness. I mean, you're either blowing your nose or coughing a lot. That gets tiring. Thankfully it's that weird period between Christmas and New Year, so I legitimately have an excuse to sleep, and sleep again. The challenge, once again, is cooking. Not a problem when you're not unwell, but when you are, you will want to just have something delivered. How I did all that last year considering, again, that three-month period, I don't know. But then, I wanted something warm and I had ramen delivered.
The last time I was sick, a few months ago, my brother had ramen delivered. Really nice gesture. Sometimes I'm not used to, honestly. It's not like I was incapacitated, but there he and his wife was, messaging me to expect ramen delivered. I got two bowls; one had to be eaten at lunchtime. And then someone had bak kut teh delivered. It wasn't anyone from my family, and I failed to ask the rider who had it sent over.
But I remember that day when I did the laundry and the grocery, when I was going after whatever time I had left before I got sick as well. We had bak kut teh delivered.
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