No vampire pun intended, but sometimes life sucks.
For all the superpowers and mysterious abilities, a vampire still gets the lurgy. The past week or so, I’ve felt like death warmed up. Or, more likely, like Keith Richards warmed up. Yup, I’ve been ill. I hate it. It makes me feel so… human. I don’t appreciate feeling so vulnerable. I’ve had the ‘non-existent’ temperature, while folks have been complimenting me on my ‘sparkling eyes’. They’re not sparkling, people, they’re steaming.
Actually, I’m glad I’m not one of those throat-bitey types. I mean, the movies portray getting bitten as some dark, mysterious, sensual thing. Not so much if the biter in question is a non-stop snot machine who has to pause mid-munch because they can’t breathe through their nose. Now there’s a sight Hollywood hasn’t considered. Dracula never coughed his lungs up on anyone. Ever.
So the past few days, I’ve been hitting the propolis, a waxy substance made by bees that acts as an anti-pretty-much-everything. The Workers make it to feed the Queen Bee healthy. You may have heard of the ‘bees’ knees’, but I bet you’ve never heard of a bee sneeze. Think about it…
May I also recommend steam inhalation with essential oils? I’ve been alive long enough to see this fall in and out of fashion a number of times. I use Rosemary, to clear the nose; Wild Thyme to stave off the asthma – but be careful when you buy this. Going into a shop and announcing that you’re looking for a Wild Thyme could get you into all sorts of trouble. I also add a few drops of Clary Sage at night. This stuff will knock even a bull elephant out. If I’m going to be coughing, I’d rather be asleep when it happens…
Oh, and lots and lots of hot drinks. Chief among these is a slice each of lemon and ginger in boiling water. Leave it for 5 minutes and then sweeten with manuka honey. Your best bet is anything factored over +12. Anything below that is just maintenance.
And then it’s just time. What else have I got, but time? I mean, even with advanced healing, it still means I’m mooching around like an extra from the Walking Dead for a few days. And if I had a pound for every person who’s said I should re-record my answer machine message while I still sound like this, I’d have £6.50 (I stopped the 7th one with a hard stare).
Hopefully, normal service will be resumed. Until then, I’m going to be a steam-guzzling, juice-swilling, husky-voiced little ball of snot. Thank you and goodnight.
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