Every time the weather changes I get the sniffles and feel miserable and everyone around me turns into an expert on health care.

“Boil ginger in milk and drink it three times a day. You will get relief from the flu symptoms,” said a friend. Her mother gave it to her whenever she got a cold.

“Did you and your mother get along? How was the relationship?” I asked her. The concoction was terrible and my taste buds did a double take and wondered what was that that went by, before the throat reacted and nearly gagged and coughed trying to throw it up.

“We need ‘tisoos’,” I told my wife and sneezed and snuffled into my sleeve like the doctor advised. “Isn’t that unhygienic?” asked my wife looking at me with disgust.

“The doctor said the spit globules from the sneeze spray travel at 100 miles per hour (160 km/h if you’re inclined toward the metric system) and the germs travel a distance of 32 feet (about 9.5 metres),” I said.

“The doctor also said that the droplets float about happily and go visiting and infecting other people through the air-conditioning ducts,” I said.

“It’s like a horror movie. Did you know hundreds of people die in Europe and North America because of flu, especially those in my age group? I should have got my flu shot in December,” I lamented.

“Dad, if you sneeze that hard the germs would splatter on your laptop screen and die,” said my son, trying to be funny like me.

“‘Doh’ away,” I told him. Our maid then walked in holding a pot that had a wreath of steam on top. She took a small vial that said Eucalyptus Oil, and put two drops into the pot. “Put your head over the pot and cover with this towel,” she said.

“The grocery says they don’t have the tissues you want, just some unknown brand,” said my wife.

“No, no,” I shouted from under the towel as the steam and oil burnt my eyes and my sensitive nose. “The unknown brands are scented and make me sneeze more as I am allergic to perfume,” I said, trying to be calm and careful trying not to sneeze into the steaming hot bowl.

Just then our friend called and told my wife to give me raw garlic to chew. “That’s to keep away blood-drinking vampires, not the flu germs,” I sneezed. “She says that if you do not like the taste to mix it with yoghurt,” said my wife.

“People have gone to the ‘doon’ but we still can’t ‘coor’ a ‘dold’,” I said exasperated.

“Hope he is not hallucinating,” said my son, suggesting a quick take-away order of chicken noodle soup.

“I remember our cook would make pepper water with things floating on the top. One sip and the cold would vanish,” I said. “I think I have a free follow-up visit to the doctor if I go back within a week,” I said.

“You haven’t even got your insurance card yet,” said my wife.

“The last time I went to the insurance company offering basic insurance, the guy at the reception shouted loudly at me and the crowd of people pushing and shoving, to ‘sit down’,” I said. “He sounded like the guy at the cinema when I went to the toilet and stumbled back in the dark,” I said.

“I sat down next to a woman who said she has been coming every day since the last week and she still had not got the insurance card,” I said.

“The doctor said I should drink a lot of water and now I can’t even move,” I said.

“It’s snowing on the mountain road to Oman,” my wife said, reading the news on her phone.

Mahmood Saberi is a freelance journalist based in Dubai. You can follow him on Twitter at www.twitter.com/mahmood_saberi