Flu

Tuesday was the 7th day I had been feeling crap. Well, not that crap, to be honest. But certainly not up to going to gym or running. I got back from Europe on a Saturday and it hit me on the Tuesday, so who knows where I got it. Blamed my daughter since she was ill at the time, but I could just as well have picked it up on the plane. 300 plus individuals breathing a finite volume of warmed and rewarmed air for 11 hours cannot be a good recipe for infection control.

It started with a tickle in the throat, followed by frank discomfort on swallowing followed by a sensation of having a little bunsen burner on the back of the tongue, steadily toasting one's throat and tonsils. Then came the headache and the muscle ache and the bone ache and a few other aches besides. Did I mention sinuses? A few shivers and chills and sweats - just the old virus reminding me that it had breached the firewall and was now happily circulating through my blood stream. By the next day it had shifted down into the windpipe and voicebox, with the result that I really sounded ill - useful that, if one wants any sympathy from family, friends and colleagues.

Normally I carry on until I literally cannot drag myself out of bed and then surrender to a day off to recuperate. So this time I told myself to be clever and mount a pre-emptive strike. Take a day off early and the little buggers won't know what hit them. So that is what I did - day 2 I didn't go into work. I hung around the house in my tracksuit and drank copious quantities of rooibos tea with lemon, honey and fresh ginger infused.

Next day I felt worse, but I had already taken my day, couldn't shift my appointments and simply had to go in. Same deal on Friday. By the weekend I felt like death. Somehow managed to get through it all mainly by being extremely antisocial and grumpy. The first day I felt even vaguely human was the Wednesday (day 8), and by day 10 I was just about back to normal.

Now I don't normally get sick - touch wood. I mean I get one or two colds a year but they generally just irritate me and don't interfere with my work, only my leisure. I can count on two hands the number of sick days I have taken in the last 10 years I think. But this virus laid me low. Maybe it was a particuarly virulent one. Maybe this was punishment for forgetting my flu jab this year. Maybe it was the great god of homeopaths, naturopaths and all practitioners of murkly medicine getting his (her?) back on me for laughing at his disciples and not taking my extract of wild potato with tincture of piggy-pooh. Maybe I am just getting older. Bottom line: I did not enjoy it one bit.

Postscript: About one month later. First long run since London. Feeling good again. Hopefully that is it for '09.