Menfluenza

What happened?

Menfluenza, a phenomenon that has baffled scientists, strained relationships, and temporarily paralyzed households across the globe.

Also known as The Man Cold, or in extreme cases, The Bro-nchial Plague.

Yes, it sounds like a designer virus or a cologne by Tom Ford, but it’s neither. It’s that special brand of suffering that kicks in when a man catches a common cold and reacts as if he’s just contracted the bubonic plague.

What Is Menfluenza?

Menfluenza is the moment a minor virus passes through a man’s immune system and is met not with courage, but with couch-hugging, blanket-bundling, and a lot of heavy sighs. The condition isn’t fatal, but you’d never know that from the groans echoing down the hallway.

It usually involves:

• A slight cough that is definitely bronchitis (spoiler: it’s not)

• Dramatic blanket layering despite it being 72 degrees indoors

• Asking “Can you bring me water?” even though he’s closer to the kitchen

• Frequent announcements about how sick he is, often timed to interrupt your Zoom call

To be fair, everyone deserves a little sympathy when they’re sick. But Menfluenza isn’t just about the virus…

How It Begins

It starts small. A sniffle. A sneeze. A slightly scratchy throat.

“Must be allergies,” he’ll say, casually… but with a death wish.

Within 24 hours, he’s on the couch under a blanket, flipping between sports highlights and his new identity as a fragile Victorian child.

He’s “burning up” at 99.1°F, requesting soup, and occasionally groaning for no clear reason — perhaps for dramatic effect, or maybe just to remind you he’s still alive. Barely.

A Typical Menfluenza Timeline

Day 1:

He’s powering through it. Sniffling a little, insisting he’s fine. You’re almost convinced.

Day 2:

Things take a turn. He’s now Googling symptoms and gently suggesting this might be something serious. Possibly rare. Possibly French. Possibly the thing that wiped out the dinosaurs. A meteoroid sounds way too implausible anyway.

Day 3:

He’s at peak Menfluenza. Wrapped in a blanket. Whispering that he “might need to cancel plans… all plans, ever.”

He’s texting his mom. He’s referring to soup as “medicine.” You ask if he wants tea, and he says, “If it’s not too much trouble,” like he hasn’t already consumed half the pantry.

Day 4:

Recovery has begun. But he’s moving slow. Very slow. Like someone who ran a marathon uphill, barefoot, during a blizzard. He says things like, “I’m not 100%, but I’ll try…” and then naps for three hours.

Day 5:

He’s back to normal. Mostly. He talks about how bad it was as if you weren’t there witnessing him rate his own coughs on a scale of 1 to “Might Be Tuberculosis.”

The Science (Kind Of)

There are a few working theories about Menfluenza, no seriously:

• Biological Drift: Maybe men do experience cold symptoms more intensely. Maybe. Some studies suggest hormones can affect immune response. But still…

• Childhood Nostalgia: Getting sick may be the one socially acceptable time grown men can regress into childhood. Pajamas at noon, juice boxes, and being taken care of? Not a bad deal. I can see that.

• Performative Suffering: In a world where expressing vulnerability can be frowned upon, the man cold becomes an opportunity to go all in. Like, Oscar submission levels of acting.

When It’s Over

Eventually, Menfluenza runs its course. He’ll rise from the couch, reborn. Stronger. Wiser. With tales to tell.

He’ll talk about “that cold back in April” for the next 10 years. He’ll reference it in arguments. “Remember when I was dying and still helped carry in the groceries?”

Yes. Yes, we remember.

You carried one bag and needed a nap.

The Bottom Line

Menfluenza is a mindset. A mild cold with a strong PR campaign.

But to be fair, men aren’t the only ones who milk their symptoms from time to time. We all do it. We’re human.

Ladies, if your man is down with Menfluenza, know that you are not alone. There are millions of you nodding silently while spooning soup into a perfectly capable adult’s mouth. You are strong.

And to the men reading this: we love you. You’ll live.