My brain is slightly less fuzzy than it has been over the last three weeks, so I thought I'd risk a short post, so as not to leave my readers thinking I had truly vanished off the face of the earth.
Although the doctors don't do the test now, it's fairly clear to all concerned that I have had (indeed still have) Swine Flu. I've spent the last 9 days in bed, and the two weeks before that thinking I had the world's worst cold and cough.
Debilitating though it's been, I have managed to read my way though the entire Harry Potter series. Why I chose that particular set of books to read whilst confined to quarters I'm not entirely sure, but at least now the final films will make sense, if I ever get around to going to the cinema again.
My husband has, of course, stepped up to the plate, along with both sets of Grandparents and my sister, meaning the girls have been ferried to school, nursery, swimming, tiny tumblers, etc etc, without me having to worry. I feel immense gratitude to all concerned.
Today though, I'm still feeling weak. My cheeks feel bruised (apparently that's the sinuses). And I've lost about a stone. This is not, though, a new year's diet I'd recommend to anyone.
Now where's the paracetamol?