Man cold

For years I’d made fun of him in his sickbed.

A lump of husband flesh, moaning in congested agony. Honking and depositing white puffs of soggy tissues all over the floor. Spouting “invalid commands” (bring me soup, or a glass of water and ibuprofen, can you reach the TV clicker for me?) and wondering if he should go to the doctor.

Having gone through the His’n Hers bickering in our youth, these days I keep mostly quiet about my thoughts about the infamous Man Cold.

Especially my thought about how odd it seems that the antibiotics he inevitably wrangles from his physician finally start to work at about the time the prescription runs out. Ten days.

 Virus, schryrus.

I had worked through colds; and taken care of fussy babies when I was sick myself. I didn’t experience illness the way he experienced it ... except for the time I had pneumonia.

That was my Man Cold.

Somehow, he doesn’t remember it.

“They sent you home from urgent care with a printout for rhinitis.”

Of course, he remembered a different time. Different year. A different illness and conflated the two.

“Don’t you remember the x-rays? The fact that I didn’t have any energy for three months?”

He did not. He just remembered the girl’s ninth birthday party, and 20 guests I had left him to handle because I felt short of breath and I went to the Emergency Room.

It doesn’t matter.

I was fine. He was great. Everyone had cake.

Somewhere between then and now, some bubbly, morning news reader announced a recent study suggesting men may, in fact, experience colds more severely than women.

You should have seen him so happy, jumping around the kitchen, toppling over the butter knife he'd left hanging over the counter’s edge just in case he’d be wanting to have more toast.

He probably wouldn’t search for the empty coffee cup he left on the table — that I’d already put in the dishwasher — because a single study, reported on local news, supported his belief, and he was celebrating with a cacophony of I Told-You-Sos and I-Knew-Its.

Ha HA! There it is. I was right!

Essentially, a surgeon in Kansas who studies such things found that estrogen depresses a cold virus’ ability to replicate as quickly, so women may feel fewer symptoms than men. Also, the part of the brain that regulates body temperature is larger in men, presumably because of testosterone, potentially ratcheting up their fevers.

Grain of salt? No word on whether scientists have replicated the Man Cold study, but other scientists have said the numbers seem insignificant and that the immune systems of men and women are virtually identical.

In other words: hard telling, not knowing.

Not that I enjoy salting this particular skating rink.

The ice is already thin.

There is, however, a benefit to be had by showing compassion and offering up a “poor baby” along with a bowl of chicken soup on the occasions of viral infection.

One day that bowl of soup will be on the other hand. Estrogen doesn’t last forever, fellow Xxmen. Our Man Colds await.