As I sit in my bed surrounded by tissues and cold medicine, I have realised that coughs and colds break the population up into one of three categories. These categories are are easily defined as follows:
The Duvet Diver
This category is usually reserved for men (sorry) and people in their early 20’s or younger.
On waking with a slight sniffle which may or may not turn into a full blown cold, they immediately decide that they must take at least a week off to recover. After calling work with a Oscar winning performance of “I’m so ill I may expire any second” they spend the rest of the week curled up in a duvet while eating their own body weight in junk food, popping Lemsip capsules like smarties and watching box sets on demand until their head hurts so badly that they have to have a little nap. This brain shattering headache is of course as a result of their severe cold, not 30 hours straight of The Walking Dead.
The trier is determine to go to work despite feeling like death warmed up!
They pull themselves out of bed, put their top on backwards, pull on some odd socks and head to work without brushing their hair. When they arrive at work with a Tesco bag full of tissues and Lemsip, they slouch to their desk, coughing and sneezing as they go. They will then sit at their desk with their head hung and eyes half closed, informing anyone who comes close enough exactly how awful they feel. In the unlikely event that their manager doesn’t notice how earth shatteringly ill they they are straight away and send them home where they can revert to being a Duvet Diver, the Trier will make every effort to draw it to their attention while also spreading their germs as widely as possible.
The unspoken aim of every Trier is to be sent home before lunch with their conscience clear. Many are not above resorting to tears to achieve this.
The survivor is a rare breed who works their way through a cold with barely a sniff. In fact, the only way to spot these inhuman creatures is the tell tale sign of tissues tucked into every sleeve and pocket possible.
They will start the day as well groomed and bright eyed as if they were perfectly fit and will only mention having a cold as part of polite conversation. On the rare occasion that they do have a bad cold, which would have the Duvet Diver and Trier rushing to A&E, they will insist on working from home with a nice cup of tea and some fluffy slippers to help them cope.
The survivor nearly always has children and a job they actually enjoy.
I know that in the past I have been both a Duvet Diver and a Trier, and with baby asleep beside me, like a ticking time-bomb of neediness, I’m sure I have a woeful future as a Survivor. But the question is, what kind of sick person are you?