It went like this. Bert was sick last Friday night and off his food for the weekend, Rae was hit hard on Sunday and had Monday off work – she should have taken Tuesday off too – and at 10:30am on Monday morning I get the phone call from Phee’s school to come and pick her up as she was feeling ill, a point she proved by throwing up in the car on the way home. Three out of four in the Malloy family down for the count and as I hopped in to bed on Monday night I was quietly congratulating myself on my cast iron constitution and general all round robust health.
My my, how pride cometh before the fall. And the vomiting.
From 11:30pm to 7:00am. Constantly.
I’ve had two pieces of toast and one Sao in the past two days and while I’m starving I can’t face the thought of food. It’s odd to be craving something so much yet knowing I don’t want to touch it. I’m on the improve though, still battling the final stages of fever, aches and lethargy but after a day and a half I had to start up the PC and check my mail. Now that’s done it’s time to head back to bed and knock this thing on the head once and for all.