DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

Hallo out there in the blogosphere. Going to have ago at writing a short sentence or four. Without wanting to feel too sorry for myself though, writing a handful of sentences is unbelievably hard work. And without egging the pudding, the last 9 days have been the hardest and most challenging of my 54 and a bit years. I had no idea just what this miserable poison was going to do to my system. When I have managed to sleep I have been riddled with disturbing nightmares, the sort that never finish and seem to go on repeating themselves incessantly in a feverish way. My mouth has been a disgusting mixture of claggy, gloopy and dry. I have dreamt of layer upon layer of thick unshaved old cow hide stuck together with rabbit glue (book artists, please note). I wake up and want to find mum to come and take it all away. But she isn't here and she can't. It is hell on wheels. And that is just the night time. While FlaG-bloody-ida was flowing deep through me I could not do anything except lay in a curled heap on the bed. No interest in anything, horrible nausea, no hunger, no thirst. Doing either is really hard work. Liquid takes on a strange shape and taste, so much so that I spit most of it out into hospital regulation Lotus Health and Hygene Tissues. Thats disgusting too. Ha! I think: I should be sitting under a wide westward sky strewn with pink and soft violet, on a wooden rocker, tartan shawl and an old spittoon. That would suit me fine and dandy. Cotton candy.

It's a bit too disturbing recounting all this. I have only managed to get out of bed today and moved from one corner of my ten foot isolation room to the other. I don't pace, I can't but I am very agitated and restless; my skin itches, my hair has had ten days sticking on end, so I look serious erasure head. It better all fall out after all this, getting it cut off an all. Spit some more. Pink sky. Let me drown in that sunset.

Beyond all this nightmare there has been Luigi. Constantly there. Twice a day. Micro managing me, attending to my every need no matter how small the blanket needs to be tucked or folded or tissues thrown. His patience is truly remarkable. Just simply my hero. And Lilly demanding his attention too.

Seems to have taken most of the evening writing this but has kept me blessedly occupied. Thanks to oh so many of you for healing thoughts and colours and messages and emails and blogs and texts. I have started to catch up on them. As ever, great to hear from you all. Oh and ps I am so missing the Olympics can't even wear my team gb shirt!