Christmas = Boxing Day

Image by RobertFrancis via Flickr Cough and the Common Cold

 

Thank you to everyone who visited me yesterday.  I’m sorry I couldn’t return the favour – when I wasn’t unwrapping presents, cooking or eating, I was feeling ill and fighting with my family.

I was ill last week with a head cold, but the worst head cold I’ve ever had.  I’ve never been incapacitated by a cold before, but on Wednesday I was fit for nothing except lying on the couch and groaning intermittently.  In bed by seven, I had the best night’s sleep for a week, and felt much better on Thursday.  Friday I cleaned up a frenzy and Christmas Eve I was happily preparing for a great Christmas Day.

About six p.m., my throat felt a little sore.  By ten, I was aching all over.  I had a dreadful night: too hot, too cold, aching, coughing.  I was not alone: the Hub and Spud had equally bad nights.  Tory Boy has been working sixty-hour weeks and can’t see through his bloodshot eyes, and our house guest has issues of his own. 

Yesterday was a bit of a blur for all of us.  I remember holding back tears over undercooked brussels sprouts and carrots, though the other seven vegetables were fine; the Hub and I almost came to blows over the wrong-sized roast potatoes; and the use of a camera to record the happy day was the subject of furious disagreement.  On the plus side, I made my best Yorkshire puddings yet, though they did look like those mushrooms that grow out of the sides of trees.

I went to bed for an hour after dinner, got up for Dr Who (we always watch it as a family), and then back to bed.  I slept to nine this morning – unheard of!  I feel a lot better although I’m coughing more.  Spud has gone to the sales with his brother and cousin, coughing all the way and spreading the Christmas germ.  The Hub woke me up to stop me snoring, so I assume he had another terrible night.

Never before did the word, Humbug!  have such meaning.  They really soothe my throat.