It's been a scintillating Chrimbo. I was in bed at 7:30 p.m. Chrimbo Eve, I wish I could say it was because I expected Santa to turn up with the latest Tonka Toy, a stocking full of nuts and enough chocolates to make me puke. No it wasn't. Just my luck to get the flu. To be hit hard. Out for the count. About 15 hours later I got up out of bed Chrimbo Day. My chocolate has been pill popping paracetamol tablets or Echinacea. The odd Lemsip, copious amounts of vitamin C in tangerines, cranberry juice and squash. In consequence I've been a moody bear. An intolerant grouch, coughing constantly, sneezing inappropriately and being careful to eat only the smallest of children to pass my way.
My food portions have been small. Because after each meal I'd feel like I had to hold down a projectile banshee waiting to expel herself from my stomach. OK feel like crap but I'm still alive. Wish I could taste the food though. Nothing has any flavour and if it does have flavour then I feel the need for only the most simple cooked food. Nothing extravagant, just a preferrence for simple food. My head has felt like it is about to explode. And any moment brains will be spattered over the surrounding walls. Slowly crawling down, quivering, my body functioning to an all but decapitated reasoning. The passed couple of days have not been so good.
Depending how I feel tomorrow morning I may find myself treading the mill of work and heading to the Fish Factory. If the chill which comes at night doesn't grab me when I next hit the hay. A chill which feels deep within my bones. No matter how many coverings the bed has it's still there. Or has been there. Tonight I escape it. More Echinacea. More paracetamol. Tomorrow I break free. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes so I will from this flu. Alive. Awake. Then to take on the world.
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