Saturday, March 22nd, 2003

Wine and cough syrup

Saturday, March 22nd, 2003 08:29 am
caddyman: (Default)
Ugh.

It's Saturday morning and I awoke at 7.30am. I don't do that to go to work. It ain't natural. After sitting around in bafflement for about half an hour I thought I'd scribble something down.

You see, on Thursday, the Office Cough (tm) reached me. So I purchased a bottle of something called Nirolex to sort it. By Friday morning I felt like death warmed up, but decided to go to work to share the joy anyway. Now, as you, my only reader will know, for reasons far too complicated to explain Friday was our office 'Christmas lunch'.

I didn't want to go - I decided I'd just come home and be miserable on my own.

But I was bullied by a diminished gang of co-workers (the office cough has claimed a number of less hardy souls who never made work on Friday). Anyway, I'm glad that I went, but I have to say that once I realised that I was effectively the only person drinking the red wine, it all started going horribly wrong.

Suffice it to say that a goodly dose of Nirolex, a bottle and a half of Bo-Jolly and a pint of Guinness have a salutary effect on a virus engulfed body.

By 5pm yestereve, it was clear that all nerve function in my extremities was haphazard at a distance of more than 5 inches from my torso. This meant that my now numb limbs (and earlobes) were capable of independent action. So I came home, collapsed on the bed, turned the telly on and then spent the following 14 hours fading in and out of consciousness.

I still have the cough, and there is that vague feeling of disassociation you sometimes get with viruses and medication whereby there is a suspicion that the old brane is actually on a plate about a yard above and behind the right shoulder. But I don't feel as bad as I did yesterday.

Bo-Jolly, Guinness and Nirolx. A remarkable combination.

Oh Lordy.

Wine and cough syrup

Saturday, March 22nd, 2003 08:29 am
caddyman: (Default)
Ugh.

It's Saturday morning and I awoke at 7.30am. I don't do that to go to work. It ain't natural. After sitting around in bafflement for about half an hour I thought I'd scribble something down.

You see, on Thursday, the Office Cough (tm) reached me. So I purchased a bottle of something called Nirolex to sort it. By Friday morning I felt like death warmed up, but decided to go to work to share the joy anyway. Now, as you, my only reader will know, for reasons far too complicated to explain Friday was our office 'Christmas lunch'.

I didn't want to go - I decided I'd just come home and be miserable on my own.

But I was bullied by a diminished gang of co-workers (the office cough has claimed a number of less hardy souls who never made work on Friday). Anyway, I'm glad that I went, but I have to say that once I realised that I was effectively the only person drinking the red wine, it all started going horribly wrong.

Suffice it to say that a goodly dose of Nirolex, a bottle and a half of Bo-Jolly and a pint of Guinness have a salutary effect on a virus engulfed body.

By 5pm yestereve, it was clear that all nerve function in my extremities was haphazard at a distance of more than 5 inches from my torso. This meant that my now numb limbs (and earlobes) were capable of independent action. So I came home, collapsed on the bed, turned the telly on and then spent the following 14 hours fading in and out of consciousness.

I still have the cough, and there is that vague feeling of disassociation you sometimes get with viruses and medication whereby there is a suspicion that the old brane is actually on a plate about a yard above and behind the right shoulder. But I don't feel as bad as I did yesterday.

Bo-Jolly, Guinness and Nirolx. A remarkable combination.

Oh Lordy.

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