I thought maybe the cashier would question my purchase:  four full-sized bottles of Purell, three travel-sized Purell bottles, two giant cans of Lysol, one huge bag of Hall's cough drops, and a Three Musketeer's Bar (non-medicinal, just comforting.)  The news of the spreading flu virus was everywhere on the news, and I was at the store, buying sanitizer in bulk.  I was coughing into my elbow approximately every 17 seconds, a coughing fit that would last far too long, and bring on gasps, wheezes, and tears.  But no. . . my purchases were paid for, placed into the bag, and I was sent on my way, hacking loudly.  No one said a word.  I don't think anyone really wanted to know what was going on with the crazy coughing Lysol lady.

    I never, for one moment, actually thought i had the swine flu, the H1N1 virus, the pig flu, or anything more sever than a really bad cough.  But I was bound and determined to disinfect my house so that my family would not pick up this bug or spread any others through the home.  And all over the news I'm hearing, WASH YOUR HANDS A LOT.

    I put a bottle of hand sanitizer in each bathroom, one in the kitchen, and lined up the three little bottles to put in backpacks the next morning.  Armed with a can of Lysol, I began walking through the house.  The sanitation process started normally enough.  Sinks, faucets, bathrooms.  Good.  Those are very germ-y places.  Doorknobs. . . I heard once that doorknobs were a huge way to pass germs.  I duly sprayed every doorknob in the house, including outside, inside, closet, basement, and every cabinet knob and drawer pull.  I paused to think.  Phones.  Remotes.  Game controllers.  Computer mouse!  My house was beginning to take on a the look of a dewy morning, and smell like a hospital, but I didn't care.  Light switches!   I worried for about a tenth of a second if Lysol could hurt the paint or surfaces I was spraying around. . . and decided to continue.  Keyboards, lamp switches, and a very light spray over all pillows and mattresses.  At one point, I found myself just spraying and walking, spraying and walking.

    And this didn't happen just one day.  It happened a few times.  

    Six days later, I am still coughing, even worse, and heading to the doctor this afternoon.  I'm probably allergic to disinfectant.

    My husband has a head cold and my son is coughing.  I think maybe they were sick before I began my giant sanitizing plan, but I can't be sure.  And I think maybe, just maybe, the Lysol and Purell were just attempts to acquire peace-of-mind and cleaner hands. . . neither of which are bad, but were perhaps I went a little overboard.

    Overboard?  Me?

    So today, at 2:45, I will trust the doctor to tell me what is wrong, and to fix me.  (Please, please, please fix me!)  And I will probably apply Purell to all exposed areas of myself after leaving the office, all part of my continued belief in the healing power of peace-of-mind.