Little details from your day

5701
simmo wrote:Fuck, Chris, that toe looks really painful...

Dindon caught some brutal virus on Christmas Eve that saw her vomiting multiple times, diaretic and actually made her pass out twice. She's only just recovered from it, after giving it to her best friend who'd come round to look after her. Said friend went down with it on the morning of Boxing Day, a few hours before she had to fly back to France.

Not surprsiingly then, I had a sense of foreboding when I woke up at 4am this morning in a cold sweat, shivering and feeling nauseous. I felt really fucking weird in the head too - I think the temperature was making me delirious, there were all these bizarre stream of consciousness thoughts running through my mind and I kept thinking I was Mike Ashley, the owner of Newcastle football club - a remnant of the dream I was having before waking or something? Dunno, but it was pretty horrible. Anyhow, I spent an hour like that before having to rise suddenly andand go and violently vomit my guts up in the toilet. I eventually got back to sleep, but woke up three more times to violent exits from the other end. Right now I'm sat in bed, feeling shakey and having terrible stomach cramps. I've got five guests staying at the moment from France, and I can't even get out of bed to offer them a cup of tea, as I reckon I'd just vom on them instead. I just told them about last night, and have had to leave them to fend for themselves - something I feel shitty about, but what can I do?

New Year's Eve 2007 is shaping up nicely then. Alone and ill in bed, anyone? Please excuse the self-pity, but I feel acutely miserable.


You caught French from them. God help you.

Little details from your day

5702
honeyisfunny wrote:You caught French from them. God help you.


Ha! Watch it Hopalong, or I'll throw a well-aimed crossaint at your bad foot!

Cheers for the sympathy, Mr Shape.

Dunno - anyone got any good ideas for how to knock myself up in to vaguely serviceable shape in twelve hours? Just enough to be able to partake in a glass of bucks fizz? Right now even drinking water makes me vomit or poo. YEAH MAN
Rick Reuben wrote:
daniel robert chapman wrote:I think he's gone to bed, Rick.
He went to bed about a decade ago, or whenever he sold his soul to the bankers and the elites.


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Little details from your day

5703
simmo wrote:
honeyisfunny wrote:You caught French from them. God help you.


Ha! Watch it Hopalong, or I'll throw a well-aimed crossaint at your bad foot!

Cheers for the sympathy, Mr Shape.

Dunno - anyone got any good ideas for how to knock myself up in to vaguely serviceable shape in twelve hours? Just enough to be able to partake in a glass of bucks fizz? Right now even drinking water makes me vomit or poo. YEAH MAN


Hot Lemon, some Beechams flu relief stuff. Progress to coffee late afternoon.

Little details from your day

5706
Beechams Cold and Flu + : enough paracetamol to kill a blue whale. And, as the guys have said, lots of fluids. Courage! You could always get your guests to file into your room just like that episode of Fawlty Towers when Basil and Sybil have their anniversary.

A lot of lurgy seems to be going about this Christmas. The doctor has put me on antibiotics as a precaution as the irritating chest bug that I had a few weeks back has returned.
Gib Opi kein Opium, denn Opium bringt Opi um!

Little details from your day

5710
gjhardwick wrote:as an aside Simmo, you and Dindong as always coming down with vomiting/pooing illnesses. Maybe it's time you addressed some personal hygene issues?


There aren't any personal hygiene issues to address. She works in a café and picks up every virus going, and passes it on to me. Not a lot that can be done about it.

Thanks for the advice anyhow, PRF Direct. Better than NHS Direct's current form. Take the following anecdote:

After passing out for a second time, Dindon phones me up on Christmas Eve in a panic because she's understandably concerned by the whole losing consciousness thing. I tell her to phone NHS Direct.

NHS Direct tells her to phone an ambulance.

Ambulance Services say they're not going to send an ambulance, but an emergency doctor round instead.

Emergency doctor arrives, and gives her no end of shit about getting her out of bed on Christmas Eve for "nothing". Not that she only did what she was told to do or anything.....

Chumps.

(Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge supporter of the NHS, but sometimes they are just a bunch of flaming numpties).
Rick Reuben wrote:
daniel robert chapman wrote:I think he's gone to bed, Rick.
He went to bed about a decade ago, or whenever he sold his soul to the bankers and the elites.


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