In the era of BookFace, the Twitterati seem to think this is a good thing and often brag about going viral.

No, this is nothing so cheery.

‘Scuse me for being a little technical, but I have researched this and can tell you that I’m pretty sure I have nasopharyngitis, rhinopharyngitis, associated upper respiratory tract infections.

And/or all of the above.

Okay, have it your way.

I have a cold.

Interestingly, even though this thing has been recorded in humans as far back as the really ancient Egyptians, it wasn’t until halfway through the 20th Century that scientists found it was caused by one of about 200 different viruses, who get up your nose and become … well, viral.

The anti-social media kidsters will be surprised to find this is what going viral really means.

It’s really not nice, right from the start.

To get it you have to have taken on board airborne viruses probably exploded out through someone else’s dripping schnoz, or picked it up by touching an infected person’s – umm - snot.

These recycled bugs dive deep down your nose, throat, lungs and assorted sloppy bits where they breed like mice on ice and then blast some of their progeny out through your nose to hunt new unsuspecting hosts.

It is all so stomach churning and squelchy.

Considering it’s called the common cold, surprisingly little is really known about it, how to control it or what it really costs in economic terms.

For example, why is it called a cold, when in fact one of the most common symptoms is a higher body temperature?

There are two theories: that the symptoms are similar to those you experience when you are over-exposed to cold (they aren’t), and that cold weather actually causes it (it doesn’t).

Another question I’d like an answer to is this: why do you get absolutely no sympathy when you have it?

Especially if you’re a bloke.

The most frequent remark from women is: “Awwww, diddums! Poor chappy-whappy has the man-flu. Ha ha ha.”

The best estimate I could find of its cost to society was from the US where it’s thought to rip about $20 billion a year out of the economy through medical visits, medicines and lost work days.

The US has 326 million people, and we have 24 million, so it’d be reasonable to estimate the “common” cold costs our economy around $1.5 billion a year.

With that sort of global mass destructive capacity, it’s insulting to call it just a cold, let alone a common one.

A WMD, a Weapon of Mucus Destruction.

It’d be like calling intercontinental ballistic nuclear missiles “crackers”.

Or calling Islamic State people “very naughty boys”.

So, rhinopharyngitis it is.

And to give it its deserved gravitas it should be accompanied by a week in bed, regular cups of tea and the odd toddy or two, accompanied by a metre-high stack of DVDs you were going to watch one day and back rubs at hourly intervals.

That’s what any self-respecting disease would want.