Mab of Dream

It's been a while since I've been in these parts, so I thought I'd better up-date.

I'VE FINISHED MY DISSERTATION! *happy dance* Best case scenario - Mike Cunningham reads it and says it's brilliant, submit it; worst case scenario - he says it's shit, and rewrite the whole thing. Right now, folk are reading it, but I'll not send it to Mike until Monday, to give people chance to tell me of any glaring errors to put right.

Other than that, the story of my life is the flu. I thought I'd had the flu in the past, but I was wrong. I know what flu is now; I understand how people die from this. I've had it since the day after Boxing Day, but it didn't develop fully until that night. Since then there have been times when I honestly did think that I was dying. I attempted to go to work yesterday morning and even my Mum raised her eyebrows at that. Mum's usually of the 'if you aren't dead, go to work' school of thought, but when I told her on Wednesday that I was going to work the next day, she just said, 'Are you?' with a dubious look on her face. That was justified. I ended up being sent home by noon. I could have been sent home earlier, but there were a few things that I wanted to get done first.

I do look pretty white. I'm constantly tired and I've slept more in the past two weeks than I have for the previous year, I swear. Last night I had over nine hours sleep, waking up about an hour ago, but I could put my head back down now. I'm on antibiotics, called Erythromycin, four times a day. When I was in the doctor's waiting room on Wednesday, there was a big poster - 'doctor does not give antibiotics for the flu' and a list of the remedies you could get over the counter at the chemists. She listened to my chest and immediately prescribed antibiotics. It took longer for her to find some antibiotics that wouldn't kill me than it did to decide to give me some. (I'm allergic to penecillin.) I can't remember the last time I had antibiotics. I don't know if I've ever had any, other than the penecillin that nearly killed me when I was about three.

But all of this is nothing compared to last week. Then I was being taken to hospital in the middle of the night with suspected meningitis, after a call to NHS Direct, and gripping a pillow as Pixie made me every time I had to cough. I'd pulled or torn all the muscles that allow you to cough and it was so bloody painful. I also had a big temperature and very vivid hallucinations. Hours of fun, it was!

And that's my life. :-D

yours
Mab
xxxxx