“I feel so ill; surely no one this sick can live?” I whisper bravely.

“Can you describe the symptoms?” the doctor asks.

“The pain’s enough to make childbirth negligible. My temperature puts Jalapeno peppers to shame; I must be losing a gallon of sweat each hour. Each cough a volcanic eruption, Richter scale records every sneeze.”

“Can you eat?”

“If it’s something nice made specially for me, I manage a little …”

“I see.”

 I plead with the Doctor, “Tell me what rare, terrible condition do I have?”

 She breaks the terrible news. “You’re a man and you have a cold.”