Isn’t it just typical, you get a few days off work and wham, you get ill! It’s like your body is just waiting for its chance to pounce and thank you for all the stress you have put it under of late. That’s been my Christmas this year. My last day in the office was the 23rd December, I was stuffed up with cold/flu by the 26th. Today is New Year’s Eve and I am still not right. On the 27/28/29th I was so out of sorts that I would have taken time off work sick had I not already taken it as holiday.
As 2017 approaches, the coughing has eased up, the sneezing has abated, but the end of my nose feels very sore to the touch and has a colouration that Rudolf the reindeer would fear the competition from. The ironing basket is overflowing with handkerchiefs that had seen active snot fighting duty.
Still it could be worse, the latest batch of celebrity deaths has stopped me being too self-pitying (I’ll be honest, George Michael’s “Last Christmas” tune has felt rather more poignant this year).
I am confident though that George (and indeed Carrie Fisher) would have approved of the quantities of drugs that have been swallowed into my body this week.
I am fairly sure that I know who my infection came from but I can tell you without doubt that I passed it on too. Mrs Baldwin managed to avoid the lurgy for a few days, but she got it in the end and is now lagging behind me in the recovery process. Ours is a happy house right now I can tell you!
Fortunately the kids have avoided the virus so far, fingers crossed that it stays that way too. In my son’s case (a young teenager) he is so antisocial that it wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t even know his mum’s been poorly.
When it was just me that was ill, Mrs B. may have mentioned a number of times that I looked terrible and should get some rest (and of course, as ever, she was right). I had been braving my way through the snot and hot/cold flushes (S&H/CF) without making any fuss.
When Mrs B. got the S&H/CF she began to appreciate how low I had been – she even said, out loud and with others present (and this warrants a blog post by itself) “that if she’d known how bad I must have felt, she’d have given me more sympathy”.
Of course, Mrs Baldwin has since been rather less reserved in looking for/expecting sympathy for herself.
I saw a few of my elderly relatives over the festive break and I desperately hope that I didn’t infect them. With regards to my wife’s grandmother, I kept my distance as best I could and rang a bell declaring myself to be unclean (alright that last bit’s a fib – I just looked haggard enough to not need the theme tune at all). On the 27th, I was in bed before 8pm!
On the 29th, we were supposed to be catering and had to rain-check that family get together. To the Morfitt clan, I/we apologise.
But Christmas hasn’t been all doom and gloom, there was Ethel and Ernest on the telly. Though it was the best thing I watched all Christmas, when they died at the end, it was a bit upsetting (spectacularly so for my daughter).
My next door neighbour reversed into my car.
My Christmas presents from Mrs Baldwin were socks and pants.
I am about to turn another year older...
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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As 2017 approaches, the coughing has eased up, the sneezing has abated, but the end of my nose feels very sore to the touch and has a colouration that Rudolf the reindeer would fear the competition from. The ironing basket is overflowing with handkerchiefs that had seen active snot fighting duty.
Still it could be worse, the latest batch of celebrity deaths has stopped me being too self-pitying (I’ll be honest, George Michael’s “Last Christmas” tune has felt rather more poignant this year).
I am confident though that George (and indeed Carrie Fisher) would have approved of the quantities of drugs that have been swallowed into my body this week.
I am fairly sure that I know who my infection came from but I can tell you without doubt that I passed it on too. Mrs Baldwin managed to avoid the lurgy for a few days, but she got it in the end and is now lagging behind me in the recovery process. Ours is a happy house right now I can tell you!
Fortunately the kids have avoided the virus so far, fingers crossed that it stays that way too. In my son’s case (a young teenager) he is so antisocial that it wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t even know his mum’s been poorly.
When it was just me that was ill, Mrs B. may have mentioned a number of times that I looked terrible and should get some rest (and of course, as ever, she was right). I had been braving my way through the snot and hot/cold flushes (S&H/CF) without making any fuss.
When Mrs B. got the S&H/CF she began to appreciate how low I had been – she even said, out loud and with others present (and this warrants a blog post by itself) “that if she’d known how bad I must have felt, she’d have given me more sympathy”.
Of course, Mrs Baldwin has since been rather less reserved in looking for/expecting sympathy for herself.
I saw a few of my elderly relatives over the festive break and I desperately hope that I didn’t infect them. With regards to my wife’s grandmother, I kept my distance as best I could and rang a bell declaring myself to be unclean (alright that last bit’s a fib – I just looked haggard enough to not need the theme tune at all). On the 27th, I was in bed before 8pm!
On the 29th, we were supposed to be catering and had to rain-check that family get together. To the Morfitt clan, I/we apologise.
But Christmas hasn’t been all doom and gloom, there was Ethel and Ernest on the telly. Though it was the best thing I watched all Christmas, when they died at the end, it was a bit upsetting (spectacularly so for my daughter).
My next door neighbour reversed into my car.
My Christmas presents from Mrs Baldwin were socks and pants.
I am about to turn another year older...
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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