Thursday, 26 March 2015

Old Man River... That Old Man River...

The distinctions between colds and flu seem to be terribly arbitrary. I'm pretty sure that I've had a cold, though it's been an odd cold that hasn't developed how most of my colds develop. I'm not at all snuffly, though I'm now talking with a Barry White voice. Oh yes, baby! You heard me. I say Barry White... Ooh yeah!

Sorry, though I'm not really that sorry. I love my 'cold voice' because it usually drops a couple of octaves and I spend my days singing 'Old Man River' for no reason other than I can.

Old Man Riveeeeeeer....

But as I was saying... I think I've had a cold yet all the literature about colds say that you don't get aches and fevers. That's probably why I get zero sympathy. I tell people that I have a cold and they go: oh, right, well keep away from me. No note of sympathy or anything.

However, at 1am this morning, I was curled up in bed feeling really achy, freezing cold and generally crappy. By 3am I was really hot. I didn't take my temperature for fear of frightening the crap out of myself but I felt hotter than I've ever felt yet I wasn't sweating. Not sweating was the thing that worried me so I knew the best course of action would be a couple of paracetamol to induce the sweating, even though I knew it meant I wouldn't sleep for a few hours. So, 3.30, I stuck 'Anchorman 2' on (yet again) and settled in for the inevitable.

Half an hour late the sweating began and by 4.15am I was wet through. The pillows were wet, the sheets were wet, even the wallpaper was beginning to curl at the edges. At some point, I did finally fall asleep and the sweating continued profusely, to judge by the soggy mess that awoke some hours later. I'm amazed I didn't wake up a rake; the reverse Captain America process except replace the well honed body of the Captain with my slightly less well-honed body.

Anyway, when I did wake up, I felt better. The aches have gone and my energy is back. Still no obvious cold (a slight cough and feeling a little under the weather) which makes we wonder what the hell I've had. I nipped to the corner shop and bought myself some Lucozade, a throwback from my childhood give that illness in the house was the only time we ever bought Lucozade. I want to get back to my cartooning, though I'm a bit worried about my beloved tablet. A sign of how ill I was last night, I accidentally dropped my tablet and watched it bounce down a full set of stairs. It seems to work (no cracked screen, thank god) but I've not fully tested it. Losing my tablet would be the spectacularly cruel end to a momentously bad month.


  1. I suspect you've had a virus, which is what doctors say when they're not sure but don't think it's anything to worry about.

  2. I hope so. I'm pretty certain it's what's known as a viral throat infection, which explains why I sound like a cross between a Teletubby and Tom Jones. I'm now going to get some fresh air and to buy some honey, or, more accurately, go explore the green green grass of home and buy myself a jar of tubby custard.