Blog

According to the Centers for Disease Control, some 9.3 million to 41 million of the 337,235,190 Americans alive today are going to get the flu this season, which peaks December-February.

That’s roughly 3 to 12 percent of us who are going to be sneezing, coughing, wheezing and congested, have sore throats, swollen glands, fatigue, body aches, headaches, diarrhea, even vomiting. We may be burning up with fever, shivering with chills, and look like we’ve drunk a gallon of tequila and have seasonal allergies at the same time (see “pink eye,” below). In fact, we may have most or all of those symptoms at once.

More fun facts: While “influenza” refers to very specific types of viruses, H1N1 being the current favorite of the human host, having the flu could mean you’ve contracted one of hundreds of viruses, some of which may be the real thing, while others aren’t technically “influenza.” (Having a hard time sleeping? Go read the CDC website about this stuff.)

What matters is that having the flu can make us very sick, hospitalizes 100,000-710,000 people and kills 4,900-51,000 Americans a year, according to those CDC stats.

So, forgive me, but—flu is nothing to sneeze at.

I know. As I write this, I’ve been sick for ten days, with no sign of letup. I’m 68 and in excellent health, generally speaking, with only mild asthma making me perhaps a little more endangered by the flu than most people like me.

I have all of the symptoms listed above except, thankfully, for diarrhea and vomiting, and another one I haven’t seen mentioned: mild cognitive effects, such as forgetting words and misplacing things. (Yes, at 68 I do those things sometimes anyway, but this is unusual and seems flu-related.)

I have been so miserable, especially at night, that I have thought I will never get well, end up hospitalized, and perhaps should check my will to make sure I still like my beneficiaries.

And I have realized how woefully inadequate our health care system is when it comes to actually helping those sick with the flu who aren’t hospitalization candidates. (I’m assuming medical institutions are pretty good at treating serious flu cases.) My lovely nurse practitioner, a well-trained person, said little to me when I went whining into her office, except to suggest some over-the-counter medications and make compassionate noises from behind her mask.

But necessity is the mother of invention. In just a week, by diving into my well-stocked bathroom cabinets and reading a heck of a lot of reliable medical websites between midnight and 3 a.m., I have amassed an arsenal of items that are helping me get through this. My list is not official, and not intended as medical advice; it’s just what’s helped me feel slightly less bad, if not better, and kept me from wallowing in self-pity and hopelessness. Well, mostly. Maybe it will help you, too:

1. The handkerchief/bandana: As a person with seasonal allergies who used to sport a chapped, red nose from excess blowing, I learned long ago that an old, soft hanky or bandana prevents that painful dry, red, chapped skin caused by using tissues. Some will say my hanky practice is not sanitary. Well, it’s my snot, isn’t it? As long as I don’t hand my hankies to someone else, they’re not spreading germs. And as soon as my cloth substitute gets even a little yucky, it goes in the washer and I snag a clean one. And I feel righteous for saving trees. Tissues are, after all, made from wood.
2. Petroleum jelly (Vaseline or generic): I’m not one to advocate using any products made with petrochemicals, but nothing beats petroleum jelly for creating an impermeable barrier to moisture. I buy the stuff in tubes (less messy, prevents contamination) and throughout the day, squirt a little on my finger and rub it around my nose. Yeah, it looks and feels a little shiny and slimy, but no one is coming over to visit while I’m sick. I am happy to report that the hanky-plus-Vaseline technique has kept my tender nose pain- and chap-free during the current flu episode.
3. Humidifier/diffuser: It seems like a contradiction to use a humidifier when one of the icky hallmarks of flu is too much mucus, but for me, the use of any kind of decongestant medication dries up the sinuses, so somehow I have too much gunk in my sinuses while at the same time, they and my throat feel horridly dry and painful. I don’t have one of those industrial-strength drugstore humidifiers anymore; they take up a lot of room and require too much anti-mold maintenance. I’m using a little diffuser, the kind intended to send scents of essential oils into the air—which you don’t have to add to the water, and which you probably won’t be able to appreciate while sick with the flu anyway. I just park the thing at my bedside, make sure it stays full of water, and turn it on for a few hours occasionally, with the door to my bedroom closed to retain some of that soothing moisture. It really does help. You could use a genuine humidifier for greater effect, of course. This is just my hack.
4. Salt, water, spoon, glass: Yes, the old gargling-with-salt trick really does work for a sore throat. Plus, it’s fun to gargle and make sounds at the same time! Didn’t you, as a kid? And it’s practically free.
5. Neti pot: Neti pots have their detractors, but I find mine helpful. I mix the same ordinary table salt in small quantities (too much and you will feel like you’ve stuffed your sinuses with wasabi) with warm (not hot) water, and rinse my sinuses a few times a day. (Read the instructions if you haven’t done this before. It’s easy once you’ve mastered the head tilt.) The saline solution helps to reduce sinus swelling, rinses out some of the boogers, and makes breathing easier, at least for a while. I know some people who use Neti pots every day. It’s also helpful during allergy season for rinsing out all that pollen you’re inhaling outdoors.

   

6. Microwaveable heating pad: These come in fancy designs made to conform to your neck and shoulders, and simple, malleable fabric tubes usually filled with buckwheat or other grains, and can be purchased in most drugstores or online for as little as $20. Get one that’s long enough to go around your neck. (Buy a pretty one; pretty things make us feel better.) Follow the heating directions and test how hot it is to avoid frying your skin. I find using one on my neck (back or front) seems to relieve the pain of swollen glands. But it’s also so comforting I sometimes place it on my chest or stomach. (My old Chihuahua used to serve this same purpose, but he’s gone now—sad face—but at least I don’t have to feed my heating tube.)
7. Cold washcloth: Ah, the simple joys. Congested sinuses can cause headaches, and nothing beats a cold washcloth on the forehead for a little relief. I sometimes place the whole thing over my face and breathe in the moisture. (No doubt someone will write to me and say that’s dangerous, you could suffocate. If you’re worried about suffocation, don’t do this.)
8. Dishwasher/water pot: If some angel in your household is loading and running the dishwasher, catch it when it’s just finished. Open the door, test the heat of the steam arising, then place a towel over your head and lean carefully into the steam. Breathe. Even 30 seconds can help facilitate respiration. Again, it seems counterintuitive, but it works. You can do the same thing with a pot of boiled water. Notice I did not say “boiling.” Do this carefully after boiling water that has cooled somewhat, but will still produce a humidifying effect with the towel.
9. Lubricating eye drops: I didn’t know until the whites of my eyes turned red and my eyelids, upper and lower, swelled up as if I’d been crying for a day, that the flu virus can infect your eyes, causing “pink eye” (conjunctivitis). According to the Mayo Clinic, cold or warm washcloths can be used for comfort, as well as eye drops, but unless you develop a bacterial infection, antibiotics or other over-the-counter treatments aren’t needed. Stop wearing your contacts for the duration, Mayo advises. (Channel 4 is not coming over for an interview, are they?) Pink eye can produce its own special gunk that causes blurry vision, especially on awakening, until the gunk naturally clears; I’ve found that a clean, old, soft bandana (what else?) soaked in cold water is perfect for wiping my eyes. (At first I thought I was going blind, but then I can be a little dramatic, especially when sick.)
10. Water: Still, sparkling, flavored, alkaline, enhanced with electrolytes, however you like to drink it, do it all day long. Keep fresh water by your bed at night, too. Drink herbal tea for the warming effect on your sore throat. Just keep drinking and peeing. It’s got to help clear a virus, right? Plus it prevents dehydration. And it forces you to get out of bed once in a while.

I’m not going to tell you what over-the-counter or prescription drugs to take. I’m guessing any medical professional would say to continue taking any medications you normally need, and make sure anything else you take doesn’t interact badly with those drugs. I take Ibuprofen in small doses, with food, to ease the painful inflammation of swollen glands and sinuses. I also use some herbal tinctures, because I’m that kind of gal; I get recommendations from an experienced herbalist. I’ve got some other over-the-counter treatments in my arsenal, but commercial decongestants and most of those heavily advertised drugstore concoctions have multiple ingredients, many of which create their own storm of side effects, so I avoid them, but you do you, ok? I’ve also found that most pharmacists are glad to provide advice. (I love a good pharmacist; I feel that like librarians, they are undercelebrated.)

Wow. I’m feeling better, just having written this. Today is Day Nine of the flu for me; online sources say it’s normal to be sick for up to 10. Could it be that I am on the mend? Oddly, I’m feeling a little verklempt about that. I’ve been mostly unable to do my job (I work at home) and haven’t felt good enough to go to my usual round of meetings and meal dates with friends, plus I haven’t wanted to be responsible for giving this horrid flu to anyone else. And despite the isolation, it’s been. . .kind of nice. A justifiable break from all my fun and not-so responsibilities. (Note to self: Discuss with therapist.)

Back to the facts: As you likely know, flu is spread through the air (breathing) and by touching contaminated surfaces (including human skin, like hands). I know where I likely got this flu: I spent much of the week preceding it taking a neighbor to the emergency room and then visiting her in the hospital once or twice a day. I didn’t wear a mask or gloves or use disinfectant on my hands (except when I occasionally spotted a disinfectant dispenser on the wall that actually had some liquid in it). Hospitals are full of sick people. Duh. My bad. Did COVID-19 teach me nothing? Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I did have a flu shot, along with a COVID booster, 10 days before I got sick. Alas, the CDC says it takes up to two weeks to reach immunity after a shot. So I did the right thing, but not long enough before I was exposed.

So go get a flu shot. Today. It may not protect you from all the flu viruses out there, but it will likely protect you from the ones circulating this year. And, um, just in case—maybe keep a copy of this column?

A shorter version of this column appeared in the Opinion pages of the Santa Fe New Mexican on Oct. 13, 2024.