Wednesday, 4 December 2013
I got a cold.
Did you know that it's about as dangerous to drive with a cold as it is driving when over the alcohol limit?
There's also another factor at play. As you get older -I'm 65 dammit!- any tendency you have toward hypochondria increases. Will it turn into flu? Is this the start of pneumonia? This is, even though I was seriously ill with the latter seven years ago, somewhat unlikely as I've had jabs for both in the last two months. So, no, self, it's just a cold.
It wasn't too bad yesterday morning and I was able to take two cats to the vets for, ironically, their own flu jabs. But as the day wore on I felt grungier and grungier. Late lunchtime I was just about able to help Susan with some paperwork she brought round but that was it. Later in the afternoon I went for my nap but couldn't drop off. Despite the heating being on and me wearing two layers of clothing and had Aoife lying on top of me, all I could do was just lie there feeling cold.
Eventually I got up, went downstairs, put the gas fire on and just sat there for over an hour feeling cold and achy and frequently sneezing blowing my nose. An hour after they should have been fed I somehow managed to put down about eight sachets of food for the cats and went back to sitting in front of the fire. Didn't feel like eating even if I could have been bothered to make something. And that is a sure sign I'm really not well.
Got a text from fosterer Lynn asking if I could pick the cat I was due to take to vets for spaying half an hour earlier at eight. Didn't think I could do it all, I texted back, and rang the vets to cancel the appointment.
I started wondering who would feed my cats if I couldn't. Woe is me. Woe! Woe! Woe!
At least I couldn't smell cat poo any more so I didn't have to get up and clean a litter tray every five minutes.
Around eight thirty I stopped feeling cold and began feeling hot. And sweaty.
I turned the fire off.
Still felt hot.
I took my jumper off.
I felt relatively normal and my head was getting clear and clearer by the minute. I nibbled on a little bit cheese.
Oh, that's a relief, I thought. I'm not going to die. The cats are saved. Hoorah!
I still couldn't have taken the cat to the vets next morning as I didn't wake up until after eight. I did manage to go and get my hair cut and have a quick trip to Asda, both no more than a minute's drive away. The rest of the day I did pretty much nothing apart from read and blow my nose which was full of yellowy-green mucus.
You aren't about to have something to eat are you?