A McDonald’s cheeseburger had never tasted so tasteless.

For almost four weeks, beginning in mid-December, I had the flu like I have never had it before. I left the house only a handful of times. Two were to do Christmas shopping and one of the others was for a cheeseburger.

Before going any further, I want to say thousands of people have had this flu, and worse things like COVID. Many people have died. My lot in life is pretty darn good. I don’t mean to sound like a whiner, although my wife Sandy says I am a big baby when I’m not feeling well. I think more toddler than baby.

Anyway, Sandy and I were driving home from her sister’s on a day in mid-December, when I told her I had a sore throat. It came on right out of nowhere, which is what these things tend to do.

The next day I cancelled going for a pre-Christmas lunch with some high school chums, a word I have never before used in a column.

It was simple; I had a cold and didn’t want to spread the germs. When it got nasty, I developed a cough. The cough has lingered to this day. It made getting a good night’s sleep impossible.

Along the way, I took COVID tests twice, and passed both. I called 811 once, although Sandy did the talking. My voice was totally gone that morning. It is a wonderful service, first talking to a nurse and then being transferred to a doctor.

After a series of questions, he said I likely had the flu, and should be good to go in two weeks. It was a bit longer, but so be it. It is not like I can sue him or get a group together and have Tony Merchant file a class-action suit.

It was odd not being able to be close to my family on Christmas Day. I wore a mask and social distanced while my grandchildren opened gifts. I stayed away from people as best I could during the meal. I couldn’t stay away from the dirty dishes after the meal, unfortunately.

It was during Christmas Dinner than I realized that I couldn’t taste or smell my food. There was no difference between the turkey, the dressing, gravy, cabbage rolls, broccoli and salad. I passed on the potatoes.

Sandy says I am a picky eater. It would have been a good time for her to blindfold me and test some new things on me. Foods, I mean.

Before Christmas Dinner, my youngest son’s partner poured me a rye and Coke. She said she hoped it wasn’t too strong. I couldn’t taste the Coke or the rye. It was liquid. Under the circumstances, I decided it was best to stick to the one drink.

A couple of days after Christmas, I had to run an errand. An errand is a code word for McDonald’s because I have no idea where else I would have gone. I took my dog with me.

He has developed quite a taste for French fries. Actually, he has a taste for any food. I have never seen him reject anything. Vegetables, fruits, you name it. If you lined up 100s of foods in front of him, my hunch is he would go for peanut butter first. Or simply work his way down the line.

After leaving the drive-thru window at McDonald’s, I prayed to the Golden Arches that I would be able to taste my burger. Even the pickle would be a small victory.

It was not to be. I ate about half the burger, before I realized there was no point in continuing. The taste wasn’t good. It was like sawdust or something. The fries were tasteless but palatable because they were crisp. I hate limp fries.

I didn’t eat much for a few days. Soup was the staple.

One day, I could tell my sense of smell was coming back. I poured a bowl of Froot Loops and recognized the soapy smell. They tasted a bit stale, but it was a good start. (As an aside: Every colour of Froot Loops tastes the same.)

Over the next few days, food tasted almost like it should. I would say about 85 per cent of my taste buds were operational.

One of the benefits of the flu is I didn’t get to shovel the driveway after the December snow storms. The cold air and my cough didn’t area. Sandy did a nice job.

When I was a kid, my father would stand in the window while I shovelled. He would make these crazy hand gestures, directing me to spots where I hadn’t shovelled right to the concrete.

I watched Sandy briefly, but didn’t flap my arms. There were a couple of spots where she kind of skimmed the snow, rather than digging in, but it was cold out and the snow was deep. I gave her a pass.

I will officially sign off on this flu when I make my next visit to McDonald’s, and the burger tastes delectable again. And please make the fries crispy.

My dog and I are counting on it.

• Cam Hutchinson