Sleepless night, raw, painful chest, rasping throat, agonising headache, skin hurts, sinuses throb, hot, cold, hot; waves of misery and self-pity. Digital radio saves me from hurling myself from the roof in despair at 4 a.m.
A high-speed flu-type monster descends.
Lesley takes the dogs out through the park first thing, Flossie too excited by lead and street auntie to notice that I'm not going with them.
I settle on the sofa with an old duvet, a young cat, a good book, and gallons of hot water and sliced lemon, the only drink that doesn't induce nausea.
A short walk later in the afternoon is pleasant, but leaves me exhausted. Sofa calls, cats await. Dogs seem happy to sleep in the quiet warmth.
A day with a book is a delight, coughing or no coughing.