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| MrSnake |
on Mon 23 Oct 06, 9:00 PM to MrSnake's blog.
Just when you think everything is going well, Life takes it's cue and sems to delight in promptly reminding you just how easily it can fuck you over. I felt a tad under the weather last Tuesday at work and thought it was but' a case of manflu brought about by the onset of colder weather. No such fucking luck as it turned out to be a rather severe case of tonsilitis bringing with it the joys of a raging fever that made me sweat like Gary Glitter watching "Mini Pops", achey joints, swollen glands, a tonsil that was 5 times bigger than normal engulfing almost the entire the back of my throat and an invisible knife that seemed to stab me in the aforementioned swollen throat each time I had the temerity to actually try to swallow anything whatsoever. Oh and I sounded like Phyllis Pearce, tres sexy indeed.
So after two days without solid food or decent sleep to say I was feeling pretty lousy would be a bit of an understatement. Thankfully a friend arrived to look after me with a care package consisting of extra strength painkillers, books and chocolate ice cream. By this stage my stomach thought that my throat had been cut so when I managed to eat a piece of heavily buttered toast later that night it was like manna from heaven and things seemed to be looking up.
Later that evening my Mother called to let me know that my Father had been rushed into hospital with chest pains and that a lung problem had subsequently shown up on tests carried out after his admittance. It quickly put my own self pity about tonsilitis into perspective. I don't go home that often, twice a year at most and though I phone my family at least once a week, I know that I really do have to make a bigger effort to get home more often. We are all very close-knit and it really struck home how vulnerable we all are to life's capricious whims. Of course, being a man, why should I have chosen to talk about the situation or how it was making me feel when instead I could always just bottle it up, stew over it at night and endure nightmarish possible futures racing through my tiny mind as I lie in my sickbed? Male pride can just so utterly fucking self defeating, containing no noble sufferance merely futility.
| 23 Oct 06, 9:13 PM shit_sub UK(W), 5 yrs |
lol, gary glitter watching mini pops boots do an analgesic spray that will really help your throat by the way. supernumb! hope your father gets better. sending you warm psychic vibes x ~ psycheee |
| 23 Oct 06, 10:28 PM northernwench 7 yrs |
Dont beat yourself up about it Snakey. None of us live our lives in a 'just in case' mode.. Hope your dad ok. Your lads did ok on Sunday too, at least you didnt get beat by a goal from fatty Campo and miss two penalties in five minutes. Your leg came to rest against mine |
| 24 Oct 06, 12:51 AM druidic UK(DD), 12 yrs |
I hope you and your Dad are on the road to recovery xx The public will believe anything, so long as it is not founded on truth. - Edith Sitwell |
