Yes, the lurgy is still with me. It`s lasted a lot longer with me than it did for Mairi. I keep spiking awsome temperatures of 42`C plus and the only thing that`s keeping these down is the regular intake of ibuprofen. I even had to send Duncan out with a written note to our local shop begging her to sell him more ibuprofen (he`s under 16 of course) because I`m too wobbly to trust myself on the stairs.
Fortunately my female friends are coming through with offers of assistance. (I may yet take you up on tomorrow, Gourdongirl.) How is it that women can take one look at you and deduce exactly what needs done (Laundry? Shopping? Take kids away for an hour?) while men say things like "I hope I don`t get it." After all it`s not just about getting enough rest when you`re ill, there are kids to be looked after and fed, the supply lines to be kept open and all the other chores. You don`t want to have to get up one morning and think "Yes, a bit better...." then spend the rest of the week knocking your pan in trying to catch up with the domestic shit. And if you have kids, there is no option of staying in bed and ignoring small kids for the day. This sort of thing is deamed neglect by the courts. Plus they won`t let you...they want totally unreasonable things like breakfast.
My other fortunate is that the kids are semi-trained in housework. Duncan can do things like basic laundry sorting, basic lunch making and very basic tidying. Poor lad...he`s supposed to be on his holidays, not pandering to the shivering croaking wreck on the sofa.
Still....any offers of food parcels or the loan of a cleaner would be gratefully recieved. Oh, and a functioning immune system would be good. And someone to do some knitting for me. I cast on the front of the Silk Tweed Sweater three times tonight. Counting K5 P1 across the rib was one stitch too complicated for my decaying brain.
I`ll try again tomorrow.