The infection of a few weeks back has not left. It has, in fact, shunned the antibiotics that made me feel horrible and has come back new and improved! Leaving me even more tired. So I reasoned that a second doctor’s visit was in order. It was. And I got the bigger and badder antibiotics to mark the infection’s three week anniversary (I didn’t make it a cake or buy it any candles).

So this morning I took the new and exciting tablets and I also drunk the hot lemon and paracetamol concoction that has been keeping me functioning. All was well. I then drove my daughter to school. As I was driving on to work, a sudden wave of not quite nausea, and more a sudden realisation that I was about to be very very sick hit me. I held fast. My friend’s son once vomited in the car and despite some prompt and arduous cleaning, the smell did not leave entirely for about a month. I got to work, my breathing was shallow. I opened the door, took a breath, and vomited all over my shoes. But because I had only consumed the drink of artificial lemon colour, my sick was luminous yellow liquid. Really seriously luminous. And it was all over my feet and sandals. I felt both saddened and horrified. Being covered in my own stomach contents rarely makes it into my ‘top twenty favourite things to do!’ list (am now wondering what number it would make, it was quite visually exciting!). I assessed. My feet were yellow. Not so much in the way of jaundice, it was as if I had taken neon paint and sprayed my feet. I found a tissue and contended as best as I could. Then I vomited again. Over my feet again. But this time it had the added bonus of splashing up my legs too. More tissues. Many more tissues.

Mostly if ever people are sick, I used to find it hard not to join them. Fortunately, years of parenting have improved this. Not that my daughter is a sicky type, but parenting definitely turns you into a person of stronger stuff There was, however, one diabolical incident with child and car seat. All I will share is that I am eternally grateful for the small pink bucket and spade that were in the boot of the car at the time.

Three weeks feels like a long time to have a cough for. I have had worse, but not in recent years. I miss running, I miss having enough energy to do the things that I enjoy. I am feeling incredibly frustrated with my lack of energy, but maybe I have taken on too much, maybe I have let my stress levels get too high. And I trust that my body knows what it is doing, and I have been carrying on regardless. Which I guess sometimes everyone has to, but likely listening to my body is a much better plan.

Back to work tomorrow, but will take it easy at the weekend.

And a massive thank you to my mum, daughter, Robert, Maggie, Kate, Will for all your love and support, cereal deliveries, offers of shopping, assistance with recycling, the collection of offspring and generally just listening to me moan about how ill I am. I love you all.xx

Map Point. How can I help myself be more vital?

 

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