Being sick as practice

A cold has found its way into my lungs and I am down under it. I noticed while lying in bed not able to breath, sore throat, congestion how I get consumed by the aversion of this situation and then while sitting up trying to breathe without pain I heard a little rustle on the desk next to my bed...and I looked over and the wind from the open window was moving a small wrapper from a cough drop...it was hitting the lamp and making a tiny tap tap tap sound against the lamp...for those few moments I was saved from the misery of wishing the congestion would lift...the immediate present moment is a refuge. Resistance to what is causes much of our discomfort. How to relax and get comfortable with the sting at the back of my throat, the tightness in my chest....instead fear and resistance tighten and things get worse...but the dancing wrapper jigged me awake...now I am going back to bed to relax and get comfortable, to be friendly with what arises in my body....in between whining and sneezing.