On December 17 last year I got ill. It's well documented and it was the start of a year of being unwell in general. A crap year that was dominated by my lungs rather than my back.
My biggest fear this Christmas was having a repeat of last year and up to yesterday morning I thought I'd avoided it. Yesterday morning I woke up with what I believed was a hangover, but by mid-afternoon I knew that it was much, much more.
At 5.40am, I got up for a pee. I didn't need to get out of bed to know things weren't good. My t-shirt was sticking to me, my head was pounding and I was cold. It took me ten minutes to warm up when I got back into bed and by the time I did I needed the loo again. At 6.30 I was sitting on the loo feeling very sorry for myself.
.jpg)
This Christmas Eve hasn't been much fun. The wife has been waiting on me, taking the dogs out and getting any last minute shit. I have not got dressed today and I have burbled around the place feeling like poo. I have been eating and I'm pretty convinced that I just have a cold. It feels like I have a mixture of malaria and Green Monkey disease with IBS and ADHD thrown in for good measure and I really hope that I feel better tomorrow (or Wednesday)...
I burned my finger getting a loaf out of the oven.
I fucking hate Christmas...
No comments:
Post a Comment