Surely the most brutal affliction to strike down mankind that Mother Nature has ever deemed fit to bestow upon us? The sheer savagery and cruelty of this terrible illness has to be experienced to be believed. How we men survive is a mystery to all.
I know women will complain that they suffer too; but I don’t think you can really compare the gift of childbirth or the monthly visit from Mrs Mood Swing to the full horror of Man Flu.
As I sit here unable to sleep, sneezing, trembling like a turkey at Christmas, with my blocked, yet runny nose, sky high temperature and a general feeling that the grim reaper is close at hand, beckoning with his taunting bony finger, I have only the prospect of a fourteen hour working day ahead of me for comfort. How I will manage is anyone’s guess, but I will probably have to call upon the kind of Dunkirk spirit that us men are so famous for in these times of hardship. There will be those that suggest I warrant some form of bravery award. They may well be right.
But what separates us man flu suffering victims from mere mortals in these challenging times is our enviable ability to simply get on with things. As close to death’s door as we may be, we don’t moan, we don’t whinge and we don’t feel sorry for ourselves. We put on a brave face, and get on with life. We underplay the seriousness of the situation, rather than worry those around us. I may be fighting back the forces of nature like some kind of naïve King Canute, but damn it I’m going to try and pull through this.
It is a quality that we should all be proud of.
It is to be applauded.
If only I had the strength.