It’s Saturday night. As I reach for package of tissues for the 2nd time in half an hour, I groan to myself.
There’s no-one else around to groan to. This is more than my normal seasonal rhinitis. My nose is hosing and the times determine that a runny nose could be more than just another cold.
You see, your nose is the respiratory cutting edge. It’s the caution beacon that invaders have actually overwhelmed your very first action protectors.
The concern is, whether the attack force is just the typical local infections who attack, use your body to multiply themselves and carry on or could they be novel coronaviruses– these sub-microscopic organisms which are ruining lives and the global economy?
Not much I can do. It’s Saturday night. Any idea of social contact from this moment on is off the agenda. Let’s see what happens in the early morning.
Perhaps it’ll go away however I acknowledge that for what it is– male denial.
Sunday early morning
Glad it’s a brand-new box of tissues, due to the fact that it’s now a lot less full.
Around midday there’s a call from someone who could have been a contact, who I re