Karmageddon

I'll start by issuing a health warning. This post should only be read by those wearing a bio-hazard suit.

I have been horribly ill for well over a week now. And thinking back, intermittently for a couple of months at least. My GP thinks I have a bacterial stomach infection - although this is based on a quick crackly phone call between me (on hands-free in the car) and him (bizarrely locked inside his own house by his son, who went out and double-locked the door, thinking there was no one home). He reckons I have had this for some time, and will need a 10 day course of antibiotics to clear it. To get these, I need to come in to the surgery. Which puts us back where we started - me too busy to get into the surgery during the times it's open.

I'm actually ok - as long as I don't eat anything. This isn't as much of a problem as it might be for some, since I am not exactly going to waste away. Although I'm giving wasting away a damn good try (silver linings and all that...)

I'm not getting much support at home (there's a surprise). It's "disgusting and vile" apparently. I'm not disagreeing. Having run workshops, travelled the length and breadth of the land, flown up to Glasgow for a meeting with the Overlord and a grovel to the bank, a bit of tea and sympathy upon my return wouldn't go amiss. Being told I'm "acting like a loser", that isn't really helping me feel better.

If I were him, I'd be a little more sympathetic. After all, he's going into hospital next week for a major knee op. You'd think a person who was about to be entirely reliant on their partner would be, well, more partnerly in these matters....