I’ve had it this week, and it’s horrible.
First signs were spending most of Bank Holiday Monday asleep on Phil’s sofa, and my brain refusing to work all day on Tuesday. As the day went on, the familiar signals gathered in strength – aching joints, sore throat, fuzzy head. This is what stopped me from going to Nicola and Randal’s wedding, and which struck again when I was at VerticalNet.
Woke up on Wednesday after lots of sleep, water and lemsips, but with horribly swollen throat with white patches over them, like blisters. However, I decided I felt well enough to head into work, particularly as I’d not had the night sweats I’d expected. More fool me – I almost fainted on the train. I’ve not experienced an almost-faint before – the world went fuzzy around me and my sphere of control and awareness seemed to shrink ever smaller. I only just realised in time that we’d stopped at Vauxhall, where I staggered off the train and onto the platform and – luckily – straight onto a train going back to CJ.
Spent the rest of the day and Thursday sleeping and, towards the end, lying on the sofa, resenting the sunshine outside and snoozing through programmes on UK History.
I managed to get a Doctor’s appointment for late on Thursday afternoon, and he immediately diagnosed my as having Viral flu. I think he thought I might have SARS. Nope. But I did think it might be malaria, given that I’ve only been afflicted with it since returning from travelling.
Top tip was that the headahces which were proving resitant to paracetemol were due to sectrions in my ear/nose/throat passageways, and that a decongestant might help. He was right!
I’m supposed to be taking it easy for the next few days as it takes a week to 10 days to fully recover. But it’s Em Coombes’s hen night tonight, and Helen and Charlie’s St Andrews BBQ over the weekend….