sicko

I have just managed to get my head off my pillow, and oh dear it feels bad. It hurts so much. There I was thinking it would be just a cold, now I have bronchitis and my doctor is threatening to send me to Mater Dei if I don't stay in bed. But staying in bed make me feel so ill. I have a fever, a massive disgusting cough, very disgusting shallow cough which makes my head hurt. I wonder why I have been such an easy target for this thing called URTI which developed into bronchitis in a matter of hours. But I don't want to go to Mater Dei. I would be put into a ward with a lot of snorers and farters. I wake up if the Mister so much as turns in bed, imagine all the snoring and the farting and probably the burping. No, I'm staying here, and I'm going to obey the doctor and stay in bed, if that's what it takes not to go to Mater Dei. My bedroom may be boring but at least it lacks the snoring and the farting. And there was I yesterday, joking with little people and telling them that they'd better keep their cough to themselves because I didn't mind if they didn't share. Yeah right. I got one too. But mine is worse, because it is accompanied by the helplessness brought on by fever. Ibuprofen is a magical thing. It is what's allowing me to write a little bit, propped up by a couple of pillows. I am not a very good patient. I rant and rave and moan that nobody loves me and that I'm going to die very soon. That's what I've been doing all day. Because that is how I felt all day. The truth is, nobody has left me on my own because I am way too sick to get out of here. My dad came three times, my mum another three, and the Mister... oh he could qualify for the best Florentino Nightingale. I'm resting a little bit now,too tired to write.