I have always been very blessed with really good health. I am so grateful. But two weekends ago I had a cold. I’m not talking just an average cold; I’m talking an epic cold where my nose flowed like a river all night long. Before this epic cold I’ve never had to get up to blow my nose in the middle of the night. And don’t get me started on sleep. There was none.
Maybe it’s because I don’t get sick often and I’m just a baby (actually I’m sure that’s what it is), but I felt like I was going to die. And while I laid there thinking about how miserable I felt and how I might possibly be the first person to die from the common cold, I realized how nothing else in the world – and I mean nothing – mattered except for getting better.

