It’s been ages since I blogged. I had such fine plans. I was going to write up our trip to Marrakech and undoubtedly win some sort of award, plus loads of free trips – naturally – as a travel blogger.
Instead I got a Severe Hurty Infectious Throat (SHIT). This is a genuine medical acronym. “Oh poor you,” I can hear you say somewhat sarcastically. “A sore throat. Boo hoo.”
Seriously, it’s been SHIT (medical acronym, remember?). I started feeling unwell about three weeks ago on a Monday. It felt like a cold coming. We were due to go away on the Friday, so I consoled myself with, “It’s a cold. I’ll start sneezing tomorrow, the worst will be over by Thursday, and by Friday I’ll be absolutely fine. I mean, TheBloke (TM) might get it, but that’s very much his problem, not mine.”
No sneezing happened. Instead, a sore throat worsened and worsened, to the point on Friday morning – two hours before we were due to set off for the airport – I made an emergency doctor’s appointment because I was beginning to think I’d need a medical certificate for my holiday insurance if I couldn’t travel.
The nice nurse looked at my throat, asked me if I had a blocked nose (no) and diagnosed – rather surprisingly given the totally clear sinuses – a sinus infection. She gave me antibiotics. I would have thanked her, but I had completely lost my voice. As I went to pick up my prescription, the pharmacist actually sniggered at me trying to confirm my postcode via the medium of whispering and sign language.
Readers, we made the holiday, and I did begin to feel slightly better. However, I had a very irritating cough. Not irritating to me necessarily, but clearly irritating to other guests, as
I will write about the holiday another time. This blog is all about self pity.
On return to the UK, on the Tuesday I still felt unwell with fevers, no energy and generally grotty. Then, on the Friday I started sneezing. “Good,” I thought. “The cold is coming out, and by the end of the weekend, I’ll be much better.”
I wasn’t. I was much worse. By Monday when the sore throat was again so painful I could hardly swallow, and I almost had to crawl the last leg of the school run, literally panting at the end of a five-minute walk. Like a dreadful parent glued to their mobile, I stood in the school playground, completely ignoring my children, repeatedly redialling the doctor until I got through.
In the meantime, talking to my parents by the medium of WhatsApp as they are on a lovely cruise, Mrs Nunn kindly sent me a Daily Mail article (what else?) about a woman who thought she had a couple of sore throats but it turned out it was throat cancer. Mrs Nunn helpfully added the note, “Just thought you should see this. Maybe you should get a second opinion. Because you might have cancer.”
This time at the doctor’s I was diagnosed with another sinus infection (I did at least have a blocked nose this time) and given stronger antibiotics. I am finally beginning to feel better, after almost three weeks of having to cancel pretty much everything I was supposed to be doing.
We made it to our holiday. It was lovely. I will write about it soon. But also, I don’t want to be ill again. It’s rubbish.