Well dears, I can only apologise for my lack of blogging. I have a very good excuse - I've never been quite so ill since I was about ten years old and got real influenza. And not just me either - can you imagine the chaos in la famille when younger brother and carer to Mum went down with the same bug? I can only relate the events from a distance, but let's just say it's resulted in the re-arrangement of the living arrangements for every other member of the family. Nick has had to move in to the family house for the duration to be there overnight because Martin could no more have got himself up to attend to any probs Mum might have had than fly. Personally speaking, I've no doubt he was awake, probably coughing himself half to death. Anyhow, eventually I think Jo probably got quite worried about him and dragged him to the doctors, who diagnosed 'a nasty virus'. Yep well that's the word for it, and as far as I understand it, to judge by my GP's this morning, half of the country is down with the 'nasty virus.' According to one of the receptionists, even one of the GP has succumbed.
I staggered in, and clearly infected the computerised appointment system, because no sooner had I logged myself in than the thing collapsed - no doubt suffering from a 'nasty virus'. Everyone who followed had to move on from the wall mounted screen system, and stand in front of the receptionist desk for a good ten minutes until one of the workers deigned to notice you from behind the elaborate glass screen/wall they've handily put in there. They all look terribly busy, all bent over the computers etc - they barely glance up and when they do, frankly, you're interrupting their work routine. It has ever been so in the world of the GP's receptionist. Having said all of this, I should say that I was barely standing there for more than what, three minutes, after I emerged from the doctor, to book a next opinion. Alas I have to go for tests. I am after all, sick. I have a 'nasty virus'. Which is why I'm a touch alarmed that I've been sent for tests on my blood pressure, because frankly I'd've expected myself to have a high blood pressure. Just how high does it have to be to get sent for tests?? No doubt there'll be more on this at a later date...
So having succumbed to the 'nasty virus' (yes, I'll get bored of this too soon) I simply haven't been able to do much more than lie in bed and cough - when I'm not out of bed and making tea, or out of bed and making inhalers of hot steamy water and drips of Olbus oil. I feel like the inhabitant of a strangely mentholated Turkish Bathhouse. It's also been incredibly irritated that I've fancied food, got up, made myself something to eat, taken a mouthful and not been able to eat a morsel more. You've no idea how irritating that is to the cook. She hasn't got the energy to spare for the making of uneaten meals. She wants to go back to bed and cough. I won't go into any more of the details, it's not pleasant and besides I am feeling just that little bit better. I'm still coughing, but at least I feel that the cough is - yep, just that wee bit more productive.
So.. what else to tell you. I have done a great deal of composing of lists of things I need to go and buy for Christmas. Martin has his list, food to be ordered from Tesco, I have my list - food to be physically picked up & carried over there. This year, I have been sensible and gone for small, manageable presents. I can get them all into the one bag, clothes alongside, and with any luck, a large-ish bag from M & S tucked alongside that. I can stagger on to the bus, roll over to Winsley, and stagger from there to the family home. Mind you I don't know why I'm going on as if I've got the plague, because I've got a good two weeks to get over this. If I'm not returned to my normal self by then, frankly I should have a blood pressure monitor thrown at me, and that'll be it.
