Wednesday, 7 March 2012

Under the Weather

So I've been walking around thinking something is out of sync with me, emotions all over the place, energy scattered, and a general listlessness that makes it harder and harder to get out of bed. Or get into it when I'm supposed to.

The thing was, I had two interviews today. Not exactly back to back, there was time between the two. But halfway through my first interview my stomach lurched. It was one of those powerful cramping pains that made me want to get up and run to the nearest bathroom.

Instead, I continued asking questions until I couldn't think of anymore to ask, as the photographer clicked on, and then politely asked if my interviewee could point out the nearest bathroom. He did. Five minutes there was enough to let me know. Diarrhoea. Oh dear.

I paid for the parking, made my way back to the car and headed out of there. Home? Yes. But first I stopped at a pharmacy for some medication. You know the kind that is supposed to stop the diarrhoea? Well, what they don't tell you is, it doesn't work until all the badness is effectively out of your system.

So I go home and drink some water. That's all I can do. I cannot hold anything down. And I try to rest up for the next interview. Wondering if I should call the PR and cancel but having no energy to do anything but go through with it.

And then it's time to go and as soon as I park, I get a text to say the interview is actually taking place at an adjacent building. Great. All I need is more walking when I'm feeling about as weak as a dead leaf.

But surprisingly, that seems to be the only effect of this prolonged purging. A sense of weakness. I'm not in any pain and maybe there's a lot of bad stuff inside me that needs to be cleared out.

The interview, rather surprisingly for one so busy, goes about one and a half hours over the allotted time. She is one of those chatty ladies who likes to tell stories to illustrate a point. Very well.

I feel a few twinges during that time and the PRs are a little surprised when I finished not one but two glasses of water. (one of which was meant for one of them) But I'm feeling so thirsty. And dehydrated. And partway through my recorder indicates that it is out of memory space. No matter, she's actually given me the story I wanted already.

So it's a rush to the bathroom again for another clear out, and thankfully, the roads are not unduly jammed as I make my way home. To sleep. Perchance to dream.

I pat Arnold. I pat Maggot. I settle down in my bed. It rains. I curl up with a book I was reading. And I fall asleep. Wake up. Continue reading. Have some water. Have some tea. Sleep some more.

And when I have finished my book, I looked to see Arnold, which his head perched so cutely at the edge of his bed and I think, do you know how cute you are? Do you know how much I love you?

And I settle myself on the floor and stroke his head. He opens one lazy eye to look at me and then closes the both of them in bliss.

The rain continues to patter outside my window which indicates that it will be a cool night and I should not have trouble sleeping.

I haven't eaten anything today, but one day of fasting won't kill me.

I'll probably be better tomorrow.

And that's something to be grateful for, isn't it?


  1. That's just awful, I hope you're feeling better. Rest & plenty of fluids should help quite a bit. The last time I had it that bad, I was wishing for a cork and mallet.


  2. Yeah I am feeling better, thanks. No rest for the wicked though. You'll see why in today's post.