Climbing back... slowly

Well folks, that little spurt of 'hey, let's be positive' didn't see me through very far. By Monday evening last week that chesty man-flu had developed into a full-blown chest infection and as if that's not bad enough, it has cheerfully kicked off my (previously quiescent) asthma. Hell, talk about being steamrollered!

So, the fat lass was a good, dutiful girl and went along to see her GP midweek. Came away with a bag of drugs and I've been on antibiotics and inhalers ever since. At least I haven't needed the steroids he also prescribed... not yet anyhow.

I can't say I remember a great amount about last week... other than coughing and other negative things. When I could raise the energy, I was very peeved to have been put back on the inhalers as it's been such a source of pride to me that I haven't needed them, after so many years. But, you know what they say about pride, eh?

I couldn't really complain though - having checked my peak flow (in between coughing bouts) it had dropped from my usual c.450 litres per minute to just a shade under 300. Not good, so just as well to enlist a little assistance. And the good news is that the medication is helping.

So here we are again. Another Monday morning back at work, catching up (or trying to) on a shed-load of missed 'work stuff', still feeling like a wrung out dish-rag, but at least I'm definitely on the mend.

What's really surprised me was getting on the scale to find I'd dropped so much weight - not all that far away from half a stone in a week! At my lowest (Saturday) I'd gone down to 51.5kg, just a few pounds over eight stone. In such a short space of time that seems extraordinary and highly improbable, but it's creeping back up a little as I cough a bit less and start eating a bit more normally. Hmmm, never though the fat lass would want to put weight on!

What I really want is a magic injection of energy. If you see any spare supplies looking for a good home...