We flew to Orlando on November 30th and that is the day I must have come into contact with something or someone who infected me with a head cold. We wouldn’t know about that infection until Wednesday when my scratchy throat had to be from something other than screaming like a little girl on the roller-coasters at Disney. By Thursday Iris had a slight cough and I had a full on head cold, but as we were going to Kennedy Space Centre that day we were able to cope fine.
Friday and Saturday were tough for me with Iris only having the cough, but I manned up, picked up some cold meds, and we went out and enjoyed both days. Honestly I’d had worse colds and if you are going to be sick doing it in 30°C 70% humidity Florida air is the place to do it. Sunday was the travel home day and I was dreading it.
We needed to be up at 2am EST to catch the bus and make the flight to Toronto so we only had 3 hours of sleep, and that was the only sleep I was able to get until we were back home at 11pm PST that night. I’m pretty much convinced that somewhere along that day we both caught something extra to go along with our colds. Some strain that was different from what we had contracted on the way down.
I was completely destroyed by those flights and spent Monday in misery, staying in bed all day watching YouTube and napping. I ended up taking two days off work before I felt human enough to head into the office on Thursday. By Friday Iris was fully into the space that I had hit that Sunday and only now is she starting to feel better. We’ve spent over a week recovering from what we caught on this trip.
I’ve come to the conclusion that the worst part of traveling is the actual travel itself. The destination is all that matters.