It only took 15 months but I think my body has finally adjusted to the climate here in Ireland. It recently occurred to me that I haven’t had a cold or flu or major aches and pains for a while now; considering I was sick about once every month for the first year of living here, I’m overjoyed!
Irish people say the damp air here is what makes you sick. Whatever it is, my body went into rejection mode the moment I landed. My lungs were used to the comforting warm and dry air of Los Angeles, which was only very occasionally punctuated by a rain shower or cooler temperatures. So when my organs were introduced to the cold, wet breezes of the north east seaboard of this island, they were determined to show their misery by inflicting pain in the form of one bizarre illness or another.
First there was the monthly cold with the coughing and slightly-above-normal body temperature. Then came the crazy, head-rattling sneezing and runny nose/eyes from hay fever (thanks, rapeseed plants!). By December of last year, I had contracted some viral infection that left me with painful, swollen glands in my neck and a low-grade fever and headache that lasted over 30 days. So exhausted and weepy was I during our New Year’s holiday in Athlone that Mountaineering Man had to ring a local doctor for an emergency appointment. The doctor told me the same thing my own doc told me, which was that my body was fighting some viral infection and I would just have to wait until it passed. He happily pocked 50 quid for his 5 minutes and I left knowing I’d chosen the wrong career field.