The Weekend is Cancelled

Saw my physio on Tuesday. It all seemed good. I told her I had started walking around the house without my crutches, although I still needed them outside, more for confidence, and negotiating steps, than anything else. And she told me I could stop doing exercise set 1 and move on to exercise set 2. I took very little notice of her persistent tickly cough except to assure her she didn't need to keep apologising for it, and we had a joint moan about how small children pick these things up from school, bring them home and spread them, then get better in 24 hours leaving the adults washed out for days.

 

Never gave the matter another thought, not even on Wednesday morning when I woke up with a bit of a sore throat. It wasn't until the early hours of Thursday morning, when a persistnet tickly cough had deprived me of most of my night's sleep that I remembered the physiotherapist and her cough cough cough.

 

Thursday I didn't feel at all well. Annoyingly I had to cancel my trip to the local UHI library where I was booked in for some Ph D related e-resources training. Friday I was much better, and finally manged to wrestle the last of the Christmas cards into submission. The last of the gifts that need wrapping and then forwarding arrived which was a relief. I was in two minds though about cancelling my SWRI Christmas lunch for today, not because I didn't feel up to it, because I did, but because this was obviously a fairly virulent little bugette that I was nursing and I didn't want to be spreading it about so close to Christmas.

 

Woke up this morning barely able to speak, with a throat the pixies had obviously been sandpapering all night. Freezing cold, despite duvet, cat, OH and radiator all in close proximity and a forehead that apparently you could fry an egg on. Limbs like lead and a racking cough. The lunch was off.

 

I was a bit miffed because this year it was my only out-of-house festive meal; also I had chosen pannacotta for dessert. I always choose this when it's on a menu because let's be honest, it's not the sort of thing we knock up in the family kitchen on a regular basis,  so it's a case of have it when you can. And a lot of people I would have seen to catch up with, after my n-week long incarceration in the house I now won't see until after Christmas. I console myself with the thought that they are doubtless grateful to me for not infecting them.

 

After officially cancelling I went back to bed and slept until three, and I'm still trying to decide if I have the enrgy to drag myself out of bed to watch the final episodes of The Killing live at 9.00. The jury is still out on that one.

 

Tomorrow's after service treat of mulled wine and mice pies is also off the agenda along with the associated carol service obviously.

 

I suppose the positive side is that this is happeing before, rather than over Christmas, and I daresay it will all be cleared up in a couple of days. Things could be worse.

 

Bit it's not how I wanted the weekend to go.