It has been seven days of sickness. Seven days of the common cold. Seven days of being miserable. The coughing (don't you hate that tickley-cough that strikes out of nowhere but especially when you are talking on the phone and you cough so hard you can't get a breath, let alone a word in edgewise and the person on the other end of the line thinks you are dying?). The accompanying tears that go with the coughing fit. The sneezing attack that follows the choking and coughing fit. The snot trying to decide if it is going to stuff up your head until it explodes, or drip unceasing down your face until you feel like the toddler whose mom has given up and just lets it slip on down to the chin. The deep, raspy, I've-been-smoking-ten-packs-a-day-since-I-was-twelve voice. The nights spent wide awake because every time you close your eyes the aches and pains make you turn over and turn back and then it starts again… the tickley cough… and the waking of the husband… and the sneezing and the blowing and the coughing…and the cycle goes on an on.

So bear with me now as I wave my magic wand…  *waving magic wand furiously in circles and pointing at the heavens* … BEGONE!!!

Yeah. I didn't think it would work either.