Perhaps inevitably, I caught the cold. Of course I did. Christ, I sucked the snot from her nose! Hit me with a shovel if I act surprised.
It is now two weeks later and the residual cough shows no sign of abating (for either me or her). Naturally, we've taken DD to the doctor (come on now: we have paid our Neurotic Parent subscriptions in full), to be told it is a cold. Thank you, move along.
I feel worse for her than ever. I worked from home for a day, largely because I was suffering so much with runny nose, eyes and self-pity. And I'm allowed to take the Big Boy Drugs (Lemsip). DD is not allowed anything stronger (in practice) than a kind thought. Thank goodness she's not a world leader (yet). I'd have declared war on China by now.
I am lost in admiration for her. She grumbles, sure. But she has neither decent-dosage drugs, or wine (see decent-dosage drugs) to comfort her. Just a cat toy. Called Colin.
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