My plan was: set an alarm, get out of bed, and evaluate the situation. If I felt OK I would throw my bag in my car and abscond to Exeter airport. If I didn’t I would return to bed.
That was easy. The alarm went, I assessed I felt shit, so I went back to sleep. And slept hours more. It would have been dangerous to drive, detrimental to travel and dubious to show up at social engagements in such a state. My head was full of slime, my nose was clogged, I could not speak, my throat and head hurt and I was knackered. So my Christmas Eve was spent asleep! That was not according to plan. But sometimes the body wins over the diary. And this is one of these moments.
Falling ill just before Christmas is a bit tricky; before you know it you are left without supplies, as the shops close. But I was lucky to have a guardian angel; Hugh, who would stay in the country as well (in his case on purpose). He bought me lemons, oranges, honey and everything else someone with a cold might need. I think this time it’s just laryngitis with a severe cold, and no tonsillitis: my tonsils have reasonable sizes and colours. I’ll just go on sleeping and eating citrus fruit and honey until I feel better! And merry Christmas to all you healthy people!