Sick

I hate being sick. It doesn't happen often and when it does I really really hate it. It never used to be this way. Back in The Dark Times when I was low-energy, high-fat and making poor lifestyle choices, I got sick every couple of months, and secretly kind of enjoyed having a day or so off every once in a while to sleep in and feel a bit sorry for myself.Not in a Munchausen's hypochondria kind of way, more in a lazy sod kind of way.

Now, bugs that used to floor me for days get as far as the "feeling a bit scratchy for a day" phase of attack before my immune system gives them a kicking. I get sick enough to stay off work about once a year (not allowing for exciting injuries) and when I do I tend to bounce back pretty fast. The lesson here children is not to drink like a fish every weekend, eat well and work out (welcome to Irn Bruja's School for the Blindingly Obvious, but it never ceases to amaze me when people with the lifestyle I used to have complain about being sick all the time).

However, sometimes I do fall foul of some hideous, mutated micro-organism that's spent months dangling around the back of some student's ganglia and this week was one of those weeks. As is fitting, I woke up bright and early on Saturday morning feeling like crap, which meant no kickboxing that morning and that the photos I needed to take for my new immigration application weren't the best looking I've ever seen. That evening I attempted to kill the bug with alcohol at our small but inebriated housewarming, and shouldn't have been surprised when this failed miserably and by Monday I was a scritchy-eyed, sneezy, sniffly, grumpybeast. No scrimmage training, I was mono-syllabic at the team meeting, and have spent most of the last couple of days sleeping or wondering why I'm not sleeping (when I'm not being hoisted out of my nice bed by things like immigration demanding I provide them with another document/limb/firstborn child)

I really hate being sick. My skin takes on that really gross colour, like meat that's been defrosted in a microwave for a little too long. Wobbly bits that normally I don't give a stuff about seem about a hundred times more wobbly and RIGHT THERE. My brain feels like it's surrounded by some really bad-tempered, stupid-acting fluff that prevents my normal bad-tempered, stupid-acting self to roam free. Such is my hatred of being sick that I'll try to kid myself that I'm well after about a day of being properly ill, get my ass out of bed and go do things like proffer a kidney at immigration instead of telling them I'm sick and staying home (no shit, this is the second time in a row I've been at home sick and they demand that I go in and give them some Very Important Thing). This of course makes me even more ill and rubbish. Blargh.

So yeah, no skating the last couple of days, I went to the gym on Monday morning and managed about half a step and weights class before I went a bit green, and I've been trying not to eat everything in sight (colds make me a carb fiend). Trying to behave myself so I'll be OK for practice on Thursday night, might try to make up for yesterday by going to the Saturday practice as well....