I am the worlds worst ill person. You may have noticed? Say; "nooooo, nooo, not at all, you've barely complained!" No?
I am like a mischievous child, in that, if I am seriously ill, I go quiet. Very, very, quiet. When I had a blood clot during my first pregnancy I was terrified into near silence. I coughed myself awake one night to find blood in my mouth, one of the "Get yourself to hospital NOW" warning signs. Mr Husband Sir was sleeping peacefully next to me. I woke him up with one word, said very gravely. He knew immediately there was something very wrong. It's when I'm not whingy that he worries.
Thankfully it was nothing. It transpired that my blood thinning medication had caused my gums to spontaneously bleed during the night. This happened to me a lot. Usually in front of strangers. I'd be buying loo roll and the till lady would point out that I was inadvertently mimicking Dracula with blood smeared chops.
If I am a little bit poorly, I have a tendency to feel sorry for myself. Pathetic I know, but unavoidable I'm afraid.
Yesterday I spent pretty much the whole day in bed, coughing, sneezing, nose-blowing, deliriously sleeping, sweating croaking and complaining. Thankfully my Mum took over looking after the children until Mr Husband came home. Mr Husband was then a love and let me sleep rather than do bed time duty. I watched Eastenders in bed and slept for ten hours solid.
Today I dragged myself out of bed (and I do mean DRAGGED), had a bath, snapped unnecessarily at my Mum and went to work. My plan was to sit at my desk, look pale and revolting and get sent home. Didn't happen. Quite rightly probably. After a couple of ibuprofen and a cuppa I managed to feel a little more human.
I ate some lunch in the form of a very dull M&S sandwich, the first thing I'd eaten for an age. After lunch I perked up a bit more so managed a whole day and left to go home at 6.30pm.
Since being home I've fallen over my slippers, put a scoop of baby formula into my tea by accident, burnt my hand on the cooker top and sent a text message to my best girl unwittingly suggesting that she might need carrots and FISTING rods. Thank god she knows me well enough to laugh. Suspect she thinks I was being accidentally smutty (I wasn't).
So, I'm giving up and going to bed. In a blaze of glory/snot.