I have no idea why, but for years I have been saying to anyone that will listen (no one) that Grady Wilson from the old 70’s NBC TV show Sanford & Son is what the flu, head cold or similar ailment would look like if it took human form. I say that with not one ounce of disrespect to the late Whitman Mayo who portrayed him, but a fact’s a fact. Or at least an outlandish proclamation is one oddball’s point of view.
I bring all this up for a reason, that reason being that early Friday evening as I sat in the corner of a local junior high gymnasium watching B-Man take part in some winter soccer drills, I knew that Mr. Wilson was about to pay me a visit. In other words, I knew that illness was setting in.
Shit.
Sure enough by the time we got home and settled in on the couch to watch St. Vincent, I was being treated to a plethora of post nasal drip and sinus smegma. My throat was starting to feel like it was made of the gray, bristly fibers which make up the beard on Grady Wilson’s face, and I had a taste in my mouth akin to what his well-worn, corduroy old man pants must taste like. I braced myself for the worst as I slid under the blanket and tried to stay warm as I watched the movie.
Sure enough, I was up in the middle of the night to down some cold medicine in the hopes of getting some sleep. There was lots of tossing, lots of turning and lots of cussing as Grady made himself at home in the recesses of my sinuses.
By Saturday morning it was clear that I was full on sick. There would be no riding, running or any other activity beyond laying on the couch watching football with Jake (the dog).
Thankfully by late Saturday and evening the medicine was starting to work and Wifey and I were able to enjoy a few hours of date nigh time while B was at a friend’s house for a sleepover. Grady was still hanging around, which made the night less fun than usual, but we made the best of it before ordering some pizza to go and coming home to sit on the couch and make fun of and spew hate at hard to please, jagoffs with too much money on House Hunters.
Sunday would be more of the same; no riding, no running, no nothing other than watching football and sitting in Brennan’s man cave playing FIFA ’15 under some nappy old blankets. Despite taking medicine the sludge was still rocking my sinuses in full force and I had little appetite. The taste in my mouth was if I took a big lick of sweat off of Grady’s bare back after a long day on the set of Sanford & Son.
Bedtime couldn’t come soon enough and I was under the covers with lights out at 7 p.m. Sunday night. I expected another night of tossing and turning but was pleased to fall right to sleep and woke up a few hours later breathing better than I had in the past two days. I was happy to get a restful night’s sleep in and was up to beat my 6 a.m. alarm feeling refreshed. Still sick, but better than Saturday and Sunday and slightly refreshed.
I should have seen all this coming. B-Man was sick for a few days last week and you can really be around someone sick for so long before you’re sick too. Just ask Wifey who woke up sick this morning. Yeah, I could have taken some precautions but what’s the point, it was gonna happen anyway.
Luckily this is pretty much just a head cold and hasn’t gone into my chest (yet), so I am hopeful that within the next day I’ll be feeling well enough to get out for some miles on the snirt roads or at very least get a Stankment™ workout in.
Oh Grady…
Later.