Blood and Phlegm

I woke up and blew my nose. Blood spurted. I panicked. Even after all these years of living, I still can’t get used the sight of blood.  But then I reassured myself that it was only a sign that I was healing from the cold. I bled for nearly 15 minutes and the headache just wouldn’t leave me the hell alone. When I staggered to the bathroom with rolls of tissue soaked in blood, I thought I was dying. Sick thought, I know. But then what was I to think when blood spilled from one nostril and phlegm oozing from another, throat dry and coughs bursting in the chest like a raspy exhaust of an old van? And still, I had to go to work. I had to wait for the bleeding to stop and throw my feet on the road to work, schlepping a heavy cross on my shoulders. The day was, needless to say, dull. Every time I blew my nose, blood threatened to spill down. So I refrained from blowing. Now you can imagine a grown up man like me sniffing and gurgling with mucus-filled throat. All day. I felt like a baby.