Connections: Sneezy, Grumpy, Dopey

A friend with a bad cold handed me a sheaf of papers the other day, and although I was pleased to receive them, I was secretly thrown into a panic. I wasn’t in a place where I could immediately wash my hands, although when I eventually did, I sang “Happy Birthday” to myself — twice.(That’s an old trick for figuring out how long you should wash for it to be effective in removing germs.)

Actually, I wasn’t just thrown secretly into a panic; I was aghast. That’s an overdramatic word, but I had gotten over a cold only about three weeks ago, and have been sneezing and blowing my nose ever since.

As I write this, I must admit that, if indeed a cold is what we’re dealing with, it was more than likely I and not my friend was responsible for passing the germs around in the first place. But I wasn’t in a mood to admit it: This sneezing has goneon so long that I am feeling the need to find someone to blame.

Now, my husband hasn’t had a cold this autumn at all. We sleep in the same bed and are apt to share a spoon over dessert and he hasn’t shown the slightest sign of catching this never-ending cold. So maybe it’s allergies, after all. But how could it be allergies? We had at least one frost recently, and frost is supposed to kill whatever pollens are flying around. Isn’t that what they say?

Okay, yes, I know, there are many other nuisances you can be allergic to — mold, for example, or plain, old-fashioned dust. I don’t think I’ve been around much mold, and whatever dust is near my workspace or home has been there, well, forever. (I think it would be excessive to do an extra-zealous cleaning of the house and office just because I sneeze a lot. And, besides, this cold has left me in no mood for overzealous bouts of house-cleaning. Have I mentioned my mood?)

You, like me, might also have been sneezing a lot lately. It seems like everyone’s got it, whatever it is. What allergens are in the air in October and early November? Isn’t it a bit late for ragweed and goldenrod?

Along with a mild but obnoxious illness of this sort comes a certain civic responsibility. Do you venture out among strangers, friends, and family? If they are thrown into a panic by your sneezing and nose-blowing, do you explain that the cold-versus-allergy question remains unresolved? Are such symptoms sufficient excuse to stay home and read a good book under a blanket on the couch?

Google has plenty of suggestions for how to stop a sneeze — many of them on the painful side. You can pinch your upper lip, your earlobe, or the fleshy place between thumb and forefinger. You can squeeze the tip of your nose, clench your teeth as if in anger, or bend over and hang your head while sticking out your tongue (in the privacy of your own home, I’d suggest).

A few of the remedies sound more pleasant. You can inhale peppermint oil or lemon oil, drink fennel or chamomile tea. But the one I like best, maybe because it sounds strong and just nutty enough to conceivably work, is to crush four or five garlic cloves into a paste and to inhale the fragrance. Tonight at supper, maybe. At the very least, it might discourage my husband from poaching my ice cream spoon.