Bonk

An “interesting” couple of days. I picked up some sort of virulent virus (is there any other sort?) at the weekend which resulted in me spending large chunks of the small hours of yesterday in the bathroom. It was so bad that I passed out, fell forward and headbutted the (slate) windowsill.

Two nice ladies in the local minor injuries unit (literally) glued me back together. They urged me to look out for signs of concussion (“dizziness and vomiting – oh, you’ve got those already”) and instructed me to drink flat Coke to settle my stomach (top tip – it works brilliantly).

Two things of note – in spite of all the commotion in the neighbouring bathroom, Tom slept through the whole thing. And, if it hadn’t been for Hels, I’d probably have ended up in a puddle of blood and unmentionables on the bathroom floor and goodness knows what would have become of me. “Above and beyond” doesn’t go far enough.

As it is, I look like I’ve been on the receiving end of a Glasgow kiss. This will undoubtedly enhance my reputation and do me the power of good as we enter the horticultural trade show season.

UPDATE (Wednesday): both Tom and Hels have now had the virus, although not as bad as me, it seems. So far, I’ve lost over seven pounds, but there are better ways to achieve that.