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Tuesday, 5 March 2013

A short note from your plague bearer...

So I got gently, but firmly, advised to go to a doctor by a few people - my glands are still up (all of them), and I'm more photosensitive than the average gremlin, and the NHS lady I spoke to had A Moment of Excitement and raised the probability of glandular fever or meningitis.

I had glandular fever a long, long time ago, but I also had tick-bite fever & german measles at the same time, so I wasn't 100% sure which symptoms belonged to which little package of misery. The last time I had one hell of a dose of the flu and I still felt rotten the following week, I ended up making my second ever ambulance journey, so I got hold of a GP.

The good news is, I think I'm keeping this one (GP, that is). The bad news is that I've been gifted with a new dose of glandular fever as well as a minor respiratory infection. I've been given meds for the infection (glandular fever is a virus; same as the flu - no cure; no meds),  and I've just bought a whole bunch of yoghurt since being a girl and having to take certain meds almost guarantees a moment in the near future where you will shake your fist miserably at the universe and take an ice-water bath.  (Seriously - there is no way in this or any alternative time-line that thrush can be considered fair play. Just not.)

Then I had the fun of watching the doc's eyebrows raise a lot when I told him I wanted to go back to work. The flu is pretty much done - the cough I have left is from the infection; and the glandular fever isn't severe enough to keep me in bed. I know I'll be tired, but the thought of being house-bound any longer makes this little plague bearer want to cry.  I heal faster when I'm not lying bed doing the woe is me thing, anyway.
So I have a letter saying I can work, since I know what the reaction to that cough is going to be, and I get to go back to the office tomorrow.

Happy days!