Grumble. Coff. Grumble

I have spent most of the past week feeling sorry for myself, and missing fun stuff.

• On Thursday, I felt sorry for myself and missed the live broadcast of 'Julius Ceasar'
• On Friday, I felt sorry for myself and missed 'The Cherry Orchard' in Bristol.
• On Saturday I longed for oblivion and missed meeting up with a friend and seeing the National Theatre's version of 'Macbeth'
• On Sunday I felt sorry for myself and missed being about breath easily, and to walk downstairs without having to sit down for a rest half way.
• On Monday, I felt sorry for myself, speculated on why they make the antibiotics they give you when you have a sore throat quite so large and hard to swallow, and missed work.
• For the rest of the week, I felt sorry for myself, missed bits of the working day and went to bed at about 7!

In other words, I caught a cold which became a high fever and a rather nasty chest infection, and just a  soupçon of pneumonia, none of which was any fun at all.

However, after several days in bed, some of the good drugs and larger-than-normal doses of the normal day-to-day drugs, I started to mend, and am now at the point of just having a nasty cold.

Loki approved of me being home and spending so much time lying around where he could sit on me, but disapproved of all the coughing, and would, from time to time, give me an indignant look when I coughed too violently, and stalk off to sleep somewhere less disruptive! 

And fortunately the nice people at Bristol Old Vic let me change my ticket to a different date so I eventually get to see the Cherry Orchard !