Little Green Noses

Press Release: Green Noses Run Rampant, Worse Season On Record

In the short space of a few days, I went from providing care for the youngest member of our family (17 months) to our oldest (83 years). I suppose the writer in me should be able to connect the dots and conjure up some wonderfully creative analogy on the great cycle of life.

So far, I got nothing.

There are many strains of colds and flu that are ravishing the country this winter. Young children and the elderly seem especially hard hit.  Everyone knows at least a half dozen people that are sick. It's everywhere; headlines about flu shots that aren't working (but get them anyway), even a measles outbreak at Disneyland. Remember how we used to see the news reports of people in far away places wearing those hospital masks and we'd think, "Really? It's that bad? I'd feel kinda silly wearing that around all day." Well, I just bought a dozen of them.

 It feels like every winter is the worst on record...until next winter rolls around.

The 17 month old is very good at sharing. It seems to be an easy part of her nature to share her things with you. I doubt she knows she shared her boogery little cold with me and her parents. I don't mind it. If it means wiping her little green nose all day while her Mom is at a school wiping little green noses, I'll gladly do it for a day with her. I did all the hand washing and vitamin eating they tell you to do, but I knew I was destined to get her cold, because when I'm around her I can't stop kissing the little red cheeks of the little girl with the little green nose.

My 83 year old father ended up in the hospital with some virus. Thankfully it was not the flu, which can be life threatening for the elderly, but the virus caused him great difficulty in his breathing so we got him checked in for a few days. I felt like I could offer little value to his situation other than discussing the headlines of the day with him and reminding him to eat his tuna sandwich. I set up a chair and a table in his hospital room and began acting like a court reporter sending out status updates to the family. I asked the doctor questions and took notes. It was hard to tell how she felt about being interviewed because all I could see were her big brown eyes over her mask, but it think her body language told me "OK, this is the part they told you about in med school. Just take a deep breath and dumb-down your answers so he can understand you."

When Dad looked over and saw me typing away, he gave me quizzical looks and was probably upset that I came all this way just to play with my computer. After I explained to him what I was doing, I jokingly asked him if he wanted me to issue a press release on his status. He smiled and rolled over. Either he didn't hear me or he didn't appreciate the joke, which just proves I am farther away from being a comedian than a writer. There were many times I looked at my father and felt like I should be coming up with some sage pearls of wisdom about life, the father-son connection, and all those type of things.

So far, nothing.

I'm home now. There are boxes of tissues in every room. I've been very tired and going to bed early hoping my little boogery cold doesn't morph into something more serious. The back of my ears are sore from wearing those silly hospital masks. I thought I'd be smart and put a few drops of eucalyptus oil inside my mask to help clear my sinuses, but I put too much in and almost blew my brains out. 

The dog just sneezed. Now the pressure is on for me to draw some fantastic analogy about us all being one big animal family on this planet full of germs that make green noses pop up everywhere like little green flowers.

I got nothing (the little green flower bit just proved it).

Back to bed. I'll try again tomorrow.

Ken Owen  Van Niddy Press   January 2015