About four years ago I was on a SW CO mule deer hunt. The first morning we saw a big, wide four-by-four I decided I could take; he ran into a golden, cottonwood filled creek bottom and we decided to stalk through later in the afternoon and find him bedded if we could.
We found him, spotting his antler tips swiveling next to an ancient cottonwood, about a hundred yards ahead. I set up on a bipod, fully standing as it was the only shot in that brush, and intent on waiting him out. He finally stood probably only a half hour later and I nailed him before he took ten steps. We then had to cross the ice cold stream which was about knee deep; we had thought he was on our side. I was soaked to just above the knees.
After pictures, it was dusk and we had to again cross the stream again now dragging the carcass back with us. With the increased struggling I was now soaked to the thighs.
At supper I began to feel feverish and thus began the worse head cold I've ever had; it lasted about ten days with all orifices draining fluid at an amazing rate and a throat that even made tea feel like coarse sandpaper on. I bailed on helping my buddy a couple of days while he struggled to find a good buck. I was too busy taking decongestants and aspirin and blowing snot like a rutting bull.
He even drove the fourteen hours home while I slept. The cold water soaking was incidental to being infected with a virus earlier I'm sure and there was nothing to do but drink tea, a toddy or two, and wait it out. But the cold surely didn't help and it was a miserable week and a half.
