I have a cold.
It’s incredible just how much that small fact — four words — has dominated my last few days. My worldview has shrunk down and my focus is very much on myself, and on getting better. I can’t think much beyond that. This afternoon I pushed myself on and edited some of the next issue of Inspires, and then wandered down Drum Brae to collect my car (in exchange for £232.31). After that I collapsed in a heap and shortly afterwards retired to bed until my medication arrived. (My ‘medication’ was, incidentally, a chicken dhansak curry from the local, and very excellent St John’s Curry Club on St John’s Road.)
I hurt all over; my face feels as though someone has started a fire behind my nose; my throat feels raw and each swallow hurts; there is a pressure behind my forehead, above my temples.
I’ve just had a Vicks’ Vaporub inhalation, my head buried beneath a towel held over a bowl of very hot (but not boiling) water. Now I’m off to bed. I hope I sleep — I woke at 4am this morning. Tomorrow is my day off. Time to recover, and for the gas man to come and service the heating system (just in time for another Scottish summer!).