Cough & Splutter.

I have spent the last 4 days feeling rough as the bottom of a hamster cage. A tingly sore throat bloomed into full blown muscle aches which forced me to my bed at 6pm Sunday night with a hot water bottle and as many cold and flu drugs as I could find. Sadly after the worst nights sleep I have had for a while, it was Monday am and I still felt rough. This general feeling of coughing, aching and hot & cold spells continued into Wed am when a conversation with Baggy, who is well versed in aliments, made me realise my lungs were rebelling. (When your skin on your back feels like lizard skin - all crackly and on fire its lung related). I had woken from yet another painful nights sleep - back aches and hot sweats - resolved to go to the doctors. I hate being ill.
So I got through to the Doctor's surgery at 9.05am. Oh yes 'we have an appointment at 9.20am'. 'Great.' So I quickly dressed, cleaned my teeth and hoofed my way to see the doctor. Which made me uncomfortable and hot. As I sat in the waiting room I did wonder what worse germs I was collecting - then again every trip on the tube is a germ fest.

I was called in - temperature taken (via ramming a thermometer in my ear hole- ouch) and the chest listened to front and back. My throat told to say aaah and then she told me it was viral. Coughing up phlegm was good. Being nearly 35 and smoking whilst on the pill however are not good. SO I came out of the surgery with a flea in my ear about something unrelated to the reason I had gone in. But I was told to take as much paracetamol etc as needed for my back pains.

Oh well - the local GP sponsored by all manufacturers of ibuprofen.

Anyway 3 days off work ill. The crucial question I have to ask is bed n radio versus sofa and TV. In hindsight bed and radio are far better. Daytime TV will drive you to drink/despair/drugs/eating copious amounts of cack food. I am sure I have piled on the pounds the last few days - well no walking for a start and just eating random amounts of whatever was in the house. It's days like this I wish my mum was pootling around downstairs - she'd always come up with tea and food when required and make sure I was OK. Living on your own means people only know if you tell them and then all you get is a text message or email. Thankfully Baggy had a pre-arranged to stay over as she had a conference (the daffs look lovely BTW Baggy - they're all popping open now! Thx!) and Mr G popped by with plenty of fruit and OJ. Pity the neighbours took no heed and made as much noise as ever.

Back at work today.
That too will will drive you to drink/despair/drugs/eating copious amounts of cack food.

Yawn.

Either way there are a few retrospective posts I need to do... quite a bit happened between my last post and then becoming too ill to move.