When sick, your whole world narrows down to the physical sensations that tend to consume all conscious thought. Things hurt that don't usually hurt, calling your otherwise oblivious attention to them. You didn't even know you HAD muscles there, much less that they could ache so much. Suddenly every square millimeter of space occupied by your sinuses becomes of utmost importance: BREATHING isn't usually such a chore or occupation.
Also, no one else notices or cares that much about how crappy you feel, unless you keep reminding them, and sympathy is a quickly used-up commodity. Outward signs are minimal: cracked lips, a paler complexion, that slightly glazed look. It's mostly your temper that frays and snaps and the fact that you keep disappearing into the bedroom to burrow under mounds of blankets that give things away, plus that awesomely growly voice you're developing. One would think that you've HAD all the cold viruses already, when you're this age. Shouldn't there be a statute of limitations on how many colds you can GET in one lifetime??
Wonderful Wintry Belated Birthday Wishes to ladyvox!