This was after the aches and pains, writhing in feverish spasms, cold flannels on neck, head, and face, headaches raging from left to right across my cranium, blankets on, then off, Nurofen, Pandadols, honey, tea, lemon, limes, water, more water, juice, ginger tea and repeat. It's been messy, real messy.
For days, the sofa was my home, my abode. I could not leave it. Could not focus. Could not stop moaning in agony. Energy levels were non existent. I gave man flu a run for its money. I was SO PRETTY. It was killer.
Even more killer - I had work commitments that I had to reneg on.
Of course, as this damn illness raged on and began to linger, I drugged myself up and ended up doing things I had made commitments to do. I was desperate not to let anyone down. I got back to work. As you do.
Of course, this meant I did not get better. Weeks on... I am now on second round of drugs and have been told to rest. Or my health will not improve. I knew it, of course.
I still feel dreadful. But the worst thing during this whole silly saga of sickness? The thing that makes me feel even more dreadful?