I needed the lesson, they must have decided, and as a result, what was dismissed
as a ``lingering cough'' fed on itself overnight and, like a subplot of a crime
novel, took over the second half of the saga. Over every five or six minutes,
the phlegm gathered to the point where I had to cough hard to reset its level. I
didn't mind it much except for two things.
First, its rhythm killed sleep. Unless extremely drowsy, I could not enter the
land of nod before the next bout hit. I probably napped eight hours in total
for five nights. I went about my business as usual during the day, only half
asleep.
Second, I could not go to jiu-jitsu. I became very much self-concious of the
noise I made even when I was in Trader Joe's.
Tim had been considerate and asked for fewer rides. He checked on me everyday
and suggested first that I should try to stand and clear as much phlegm as I
could each time. He did this, he said, a few weeks ago when he was woken up at
around 4 in the morning by a cough and afterward he was able to slumber for
another three hours. The pattern was different and it didn't work for me.
Then yesterday (Tuesday Feb 4) on our way back from school, he told me that hot
water worked great.
``Let it be this if only one piece of ancient Chinese wisdom is to survive!'' I
agreed. Hot tea saved the Chinese laborers when drinking melt-snow killed the
Irish when building the railroad tunnels through the high Sierras. Tim and I
both knew the story.
I had been living on hot water and coffee through the day but that night, I
finished a 14-oz bottle by Tim's side while he was working on math. It might
have been timing but it worked! I had three hour-long naps that night and woke
up much more refreshed. Moreover, the coughing indeed seemed to be on its way
out.
