a rooskie in dublin

LOVE IN THE TIME OF COLD

By Irina Kuksova

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There's a Russian expression 'you can't take enough breaths before you die', which roughly means 'you can only do things in their own time, not beforehand'. This week I definitely tried to take more breaths, i.e. squeeze in late work hours, meetings and chores – than advised by the World Health Organization. Despite the most arduous execution of an unusually ambitious schedule, yours truly is alive, safe but not very sound.

I did try to fix this 'not very sound' state – a two-hour walk in Corkagh Park here (fresh air cures all, right?), a glass of wine with a friend there (Chianti fights stress, right?), double espressos… nothing seemed to work. My body, tired of these lousy attempts to 'sort it out", gave up sending hints. It resorted to doing the only thing that would make me give it some loving attention and get some proper rest: it caught cold.

I don't know about your home, but I discovered that my new Irish home practices 'tough love' philosophy. There is no hand-holding by the bedside, creamy treats in bed or putting on my favourite DVD. I remember such gestures used to make my every childhood flu in Russia a holiday. Oh, those days are long gone. Now I am only gratified for getting out of bed and looking healthier. Just as I thought I could collect more extra 'love points' for being ill.

Much as I find this 'we only love you when you're healthy' approach more adequate for an adult than pampering, it has its drawbacks. I am already on the slippery road of 4 Lemsips a day (an Irish most used cold&flu medicine). Should I overdo it and get back on my feet too early just to keep my homies happy – I'm sure to be back down with cold within a week. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm just trying to collect 'love points' for you, my dear reader.