It’s almost inevitable that as I reach the tail-end of post-operation recovery, I come down with a cold.
Immune system taking a bit of a kicking, and all that.
The sneezing and coughing has been painfully stress testing the recently glued-together bits of my abdomen.
The attractive, near-constant flow of snot is just getting on my nerves now.
I can’t even bloody lie down to sleep without the almost sentient snot monster streaming out of my head and threatening to drown me on my pillow.
There was deliberately no punctuation in that sentence.
My internal monologue has mostly been the repeated phrase ‘This cold can fuck off’.
I think that’s becoming my new mantra.
Thiscoldcanfuckoff. Thiscoldcanfuckoff. Thiscoldcanfuckoff.
I’m not sure, as a mantra, it’s doing me any good, but it is an accurate portrayal of my thoughts.
Ironically, I was starting to feel really good about my post-op recovery and now the cold has made me feel worse.
And tireder. More tired.
Yes, that.
But even though I’m that tired, I’m unable to sleep, for fear that the snotmonster (etc).
So I come downstairs in the early hours.
I spend a couple of hours reading the Laws of Cricket, or do some datacentre geekage.
And drink hot chocolate.
And cough, quietly, and in what I hope will be the least disruptive way, as far as the application of medical glue goes.
Blimey, you are up early. Still, it gets the daily post out of the way.
I know how you are feeling, as I was exactly the same back in January.
It’s quite possibly the same strain. Nice to know it’s reached Nottinghamshire now.
I had it bad for what felt like forever, but was actually about two weeks.
At one point. I was going to sleep with bits of scrunched up toilet tissue in each nostril, in an attempt to stem the flow.
It will get better, but it will take forever, I’m afraid (about two weeks).
I am so tired, M. And my glued-together bits hurt with all the coughing.