Out of the blue a dose of 'flu

I was up and out of the house in good time to celebrate the Eucharist at St Dyfrig and Samson at nine on Sunday morning. On my way home after the service I went to buy for some milk, but suddenly it became a real effort. I felt like I had been poisoned. I went straight to bed and stayed uncomfortably with aching head and back for the next forty eight hours. I don't think I've ever had a 'flu bug hit me quite so rapidly, and without the annual autumnal 'flu jab it could have been fatal.

Co-incidentally, the 1918 'flu pandemic which killed millions was mentioned in a serialised book on Radio Four this morning, recalling how people were dropping down in the streets and dying. We may be much better prepared for such nightmares nowadays, but given the ability of viruses to mutate and present a new strain from which there is neither protection nor remedy is a sobering reminder that we are never in control of our health or destiny as we might think.

At least I started to feel hungry again today and really fancied a bowl of chicken soup, but that meant going out and buying some chicken first. Clare was out all morning for a dental appointment and then lunch, so there was no alternative to fending for myself. I wrapped up well and walked to Tesco's feeling a bit wobbly, but there were no ill effects when I got back. The fresh air did me good I think.

While waiting for it to cook, I sat and worked on my novel, structuring it into chapters to make it easier to read, at Clare's suggestion, earlier. It's a couple of weeks since I last worked on it apart from making notes for the next section. This small task helped me to spot inconsistencies in the narrative, which needed sorting. No doubt there'll be more to come.

A Riviera Travel tele-salesman rang up just after I'd eaten, hoping to tempt me into booking another cruise with a £150 per head 'returners' discount. I had to explain that I've not been able to travel for the past year and would like very much to book another river cruise as soon as the next op is out of the way, so he made a note to this effect, and promised us the discount in 2020. We're both looking forward in hope, as we're keen to travel up the Duoro and see a little of Portugal's rural hinterland slip past us in the sun. I could do with this right now!

An hour later a senior nurse practitioner who works with Mrs Cornish the surgeon called me. She'd asked him to talk to me about my letter. There's no chance of having her treat me privately. It seems she does little outside her NHS work, not having time to give to it. I'd suspected as much. She didn't speak to me personally, which is understandable. I don't doubt there are many other desperate people on her long surgical waiting list. Asking a colleague as opposed to an administrator would be an opportunity for him to ask pertinent questions that might indicate any serious worsening of my condition. As it has turned out, getting 'flu now would rule out any procedure involving anaesthetic before the end of the year, NHS or privately. 

He tried to answer some of my questions about managing the risks of waiting so long, and long term success of the operation, but reckoned that there were too many individual variables to draw up a profile of successful as opposed to unsuccessful ops. Or has the research not be done? I wondered. 

I just have to keep on waiting, stay as fit and healthy as I can, and hope to get assigned an operation date as soon after assessment day 23rd Jan, as is possible.

After an afternoon of writing I felt quite tired, so I retired to bed and watched a couple of episodes of the 'Mallorca Files'. Slowly the characters of the two principal roles is developing interestingly and the plots are little more complex, though all seem to involve crooks, celebs and entertainers, not the lives of ordinary mallorquines. Also too many people are portrayed speaking good English, and there's not enough Spanish or Mallorcan dialogue to merit subtitling, which is a pity.