A not so merry Christmas

On Tuesday it felt like I had yet another catarrh waterfall down the back of my throat and my cough returned with a vengeance, especially after trying to talk to anyone for more than a few moments. That evening I got really cold. By the time I went to bed I was shaking that violently I could have whipped cream with no voluntary effort on my part. A got me a hot water bottle to add to the double layer of blanket over a heavy duvet, as well as a nightie and socks. It still took over an hour to stop shaking.

During the night I warmed up so discarded many of the extras. The next morning I had REALLY warmed up - to 102 F! Not good. Plus my appetite disappeared (really not good), and family had arrived the previous day for the festivities. One of them has chronic obstructive pulmonary disease so me being laid up with something yukky was seriously not a good idea. Hence I spent the day in bed doing a lot of sleeping and drinking just enough lemonade to stop A nagging at me about dehydration. I was coughing, blowing my nose, drowning in catarrh, going hot and cold yet maintaining the 102 F, couldn't have eaten a crumb, it felt like my eyes were being squeezed out of my head, and my poor leg joints were in agony. Just what you need on Christmas Eve! Mum said it sounded like the flu and to stay in bed. Well I certainly wasn't in any fit state to argue.

Christmas Eve night was a disaster, sleeping maybe 45 mins to an hour then spending the same again awake coughing and trying to get comfortable (oh, and I discovered that too much coughing gives you stress incontinence - hope it goes away just as quick). Needless to say I was a zombie come present-opening time and just mindlessly unwrapped anything passed my way (including one that should have been for my Mum and Dad, sorry Bro). I went back to bed to sleep till lunch was ready. It was more in hope than expectation that I put some food on my plate - it looked and smelt great! Unfortunately 3 bites later (1 roast potato, half a chipolata and a small piece of turkey) that was me full, so back to bed.

Later that evening I was sweating even more. A took my temperature to find it had climbed even more, to 104 F! Half an hour later I got my Mum to give me a tepid bath because, by then, it felt like it was climbing even more and I was beginning to feel a bit panicky. During the night I slept better, though I woke up once and found the pillow and the upper part of the duvet soaked with sweat.

This morning my temperature was pretty much back to normal. Today I have begun to eat again. I managed to play cards for a while this afternoon. I'm back in bed now with my trusty laptop whilst the family get up to their last night of festive frolics.

So, sorry I haven't been online wishing you all Season's Greetings. Hope you all had a good time. I'll be back in circulation over the weekend, fingers crossed.

The Lofty Ideals of Youth

My two have never been fame-obsessed, preferring to be in the crowd than stand out from it. D, however, has always fancied the idea of coming up with an accurate (note, not perfect) way of predicting earthquakes and/or volcanic eruptions. This would probably make him famous amongst geologists and people whose lives are regularly affected by such things, but his name wouldn't be on the lips of all and sundry. Today he was talking about coming up with a safe, alternative fuel to hydrocarbons (oil and coal to the rest of us).

K, who normally shuns the limelight even more than her brother, has decided it would be cool (her word) to discover a cure for a disease and has decided to work really hard at college and earn a place at Oxbridge.

Either something will happen to shatter their dreams or I have given birth to two future Nobel Prize winners. And then I'll be famous too. (EEK!)

College Interviews - round 2

This time last year D was having interviews to choose where he wanted to go to college. He happily settled on the one that was the furthest from home but, as they had let him in to do Adult Education 2 years too early, I was ok with that.

This year it is K's turn. Yesterday she had an interview at D's college. They were quite rigid in their requirements that K would need 5 GCSEs to do A-levels or she would have to do a BTEC instead. Neither option really appealed to us. If she opted for another GCSE then she would have to get the coursework in by February as well as working like a slave to get the syllabus covered. If she opted to do an IGCSE instead (no coursework) then she would have to be ready to sit the exam during April/May. Again, these courses are supposed to be for 2 years so the workload would be crazy. K had it in her head that somehow BTECs were second-rate compared to A-levels and didn't want to do it. You know how intractable she can be about some things.

Today we went to a different college, one that was at the top of her list to go to. They were more than happy to let her do her choice of A-levels as long as she got at least Grade Cs in her GCSEs/IGCSEs. She has already passed 2 of them so it should be fairly easy for her to meet this requirement. K has now decided that she is definitely going here and can't wait for September.