Monday, 11 April 2016

....and every day I've got to fight the Plague

My wife woke up on Thursday morning with a horrible sore throat.  This has developed over the last few days and has been making her feel thoroughly rotten.  She was even forced to take the drastic step - for her - of taking a sick day on Friday... although, even then, I can't help but notice that she was working from her sickbed.  But even so, she's not been feeling very well.

Is it bad that I've enforced a six foot exclusion zone between us?

I don't want to sound unsympathetic, and I hate to play this card, but I'm immune-compromised.  I inject myself with immuno-suppressants every week.   I've had two colds already this spring, and I'm still on a steroid inhaler in an attempt to shake-off a cough that has lasted about two months so far. Once I get an infection, it just seems to drag on.  The irony is that, before I was diagnosed with MS and started injecting myself with this stuff, I almost never got colds.  I thought this was because I was fit and ate a lot of fruit.  It turns out that it was probably because of my hyperactive immune system.  So hyperactive, in fact, that it needs to be dampened down to stop it eating bits of my brain and spinal cord.

In twelve days time, I'm also running a marathon (as is my poor, sick wife).  In a somewhat desperate attempt to stave off contagion, I've spent the last few days frantically drinking Berocca and shoving cold and flu defence up my nose.

Of course, none of this has worked and I can now feel my throat starting to swell up.  It probably serves me right.

I probably have no right to expect sympathetic cuddles either.

Not from my wife, anyway.

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