I've found new ways to cough in the past week.

I've mastered the hacking cough, the whooping cough, the choking cough, the sputtering cough and the meaty cough. I'm now working on the repressed cough, the small throat-clearing cough and the no cough at all. The last on the aspiration list is the one I most hope for. By the time this article is printed, it will have been two weeks since my coughing escapades began. When I have a bout with illness, it always seems like it will last forever, whether it lasts one day or two weeks. Thinking about it, it's hard to remember the last time I was sick. Then again, it's also hard for me to remember people's names, what I had for lunch yesterday and where I put my car keys 10 minutes ago.

However, history teaches me that I usually face some sort of ailment, minor or moderate, once or twice a year. That's one or two more times than I'd care to have, thank you.

As a former smoker, I can relate to fits of coughing. In fact, I used to wake up with a few chokes and a cough, just for good measure, before lighting up my morning smoke.

In looking at it now, it's really hard to believe that I ever did that to myself. Cigarettes are poisonous, smelly burning things that really are hard for me to even imagine sticking in my mouth these days. The scary part is that somewhere deep down, there's a part of me that would do it again, even now.

As a logical creature, think about cigarettes as what they are: dried leaves from a poisonous plant that wrapped in paper. The leaves are then set on fire and the smoke from those smoldering leaves is then drawn through a fibrous filter and into the lungs.

Intentionally breathing in smoke, along with the toxic carbon monoxide, nicotine and a bevy of other chemicals, seems ludicrous. How did anyone ever sell this practice to the people of the world? "Kill yourself and look cool doing it," the ad could state; or, "Blow smoke rings, blow up your lungs and blow your life."

I suppose there has to be some sort of a justification for doing anything that stupid, but I can't find it.

At one time, I did it with relish. In fact, there were times when I would submit myself to bodily discomfort or even peril just to acquire another package of my favorite dysfunction.

These past few days of hacking coughing have reminded me of the reason that I stopped doing that to myself several years ago.

It may have been my imagination, but one a few particularly violent coughs I could have sworn I tasted smoke. Maybe some of that stuff still lives in there, but I really hope not.

As for the cough, which isn't smoking-related this time, it seems that I'm not the only one. Misery loves company and I've had plenty of both in my cough-related sufferings. Friends and family have all joined together in a coughing frenzy that is becoming somewhat of a fad. It might even reach the proportions of the 1960s Beatle-mania. If we could only cough in harmony, who knows what we might achieve. Learning new ways to cough likely won't be all the rage for long. Besides, it isn't something I want to keep doing long enough for it to go out of style.

One of my co-workers remarked that the office sounded like a hospital ward last week.

Luckily, I had a leftover bottle of prescription cough syrup in the cabinet, which helps make sleeping more pleasant for everyone in the house. Now that my supply has ended, I'm back on over-the-counter stuff, with mixed results. Speaking of mixed results, some of the concoctions I've come up with have been a bit on the odd side.

I'm not above a little amateur chemistry in the medicine cabinet, such as mixing the dregs of three kinds of cough medicine with allergy medicine, expectorant and decongestant. I'm not sure how well it works, but it tastes bad enough for me to think I'm well just so I don't have to take another dose.

When not drinking my medicine, I can always turn toward the pill side of the cabinet for my aches and pains. Stored inside are four different types of pain reliever and one nighttime version. I accidentally took one of those with my other concoction and ended up spending the better part of the night asleep in my recliner. The nighttime ones look just like the long-lasting ones and it's easy to get the wrong one if I'm not careful. In case you're wondering, I didn't do that before work.

One thing's for sure, I should be well rested by the time I finally get back to work on all my projects.

Coming up on Thanksgiving Day, I suppose I would be amiss to not give thanks to the Good Lord for my health thus far in life and for the health that I hope to have for some time to come.

There's something that feels both impotent and frustrating about being sick. It is something that just shouldn't be, an injustice of sorts. I suppose these minor bouts of illness can, in some small way, help me better appreciate the periods of health that I enjoy most of the time. Hopefully, it also breeds compassion for those who suffer terrible problems and ailments daily. It can't be easy.