I've been suffering from a bit of a cold the last couple of days.
And its great!
I am so very rarely ill that I find myself getting nostalgic for past times that I've experienced similar symptoms.
One of my happiest memories - bed-ridden at University - was the only time I've been struck down with flu; I somehow dragged myself to the pub for some celebration or other, and sat there shivvering like a transgenic mouse, utterly unable to imbibe.
(Another good memory that I'm happy to not have repeated, however - sitting on my knees, playing my very first demo of Metal Gear Solid on the Playstation, body dry and powdery from endless therapeutic salt-baths, unable to sit down due to the unstoppable flow from a pilonidal cyst... but you probably don't want to know about that).
But with a cold, I find it kind of exhilerating as I feel my body pulling out all the stops - that woozy fuzziness-of-being as the immune response becomes liminal.
And being such a rare sickboy, and not that I'm exactly lacking in this department from my ever-loving wife, I must admit to enjoying the extra care and attention that I get...