Like thousands of others, my plans were obliterated this week by Storm Ciarán. For my part, I got stuck down in Exeter, where all trains northwards were cancelled due to flooding.
I had to spend another night there, in another hotel, all the while feeling like death warmed up. A cough that was giving me the mother of all headaches and sore ribs, combined with aching limbs. All I wanted was to be in my own bed.
Before going to my ‘emergency’ accommodation, I swung by Boots (a pharmacy) and stocked up on flu meds. Nothing seemed to put a dent in the cough though, so I spent most of last night sitting up in bed, trying to stifle the cough.
Being away from home when ill is a special kind of awful, isn’t it?
Getting on board a train back to London this morning - albeit a delayed and overcrowded train - was a huge relief. Once I eventually got home, I showered and fell into bed. What followed wasn’t exactly sleep, but I got to rest.
I’m feeling 10% better now, but al the same I’ve cancelled all my plans for the weekend. I fly to Japan next Thursday morning for a trip to Okinawa and Tokyo, and the last thing I want is to still have this virus.
So it’s fluid and bedrest for the next 48hrs. Onwards and upwards!
