... and I'm sick again. Oy. That's, what, the third time since I signed up for weissday?

Yeah. I've gone from food poisioning to a head cold to a stomach upset which left me spending at least half last night lying awake going OH MY GOD MY STOMACH. And being sick. And, um, surfing the Internet to take my mind off how thoroughly yecchy I was feeling, because it wasn't like I was actually getting anything much in the way of actual sleep.

(Which I still need quite badly.)

If it hadn't been for that I might actually have finished my prompt on time. But instead I was downstairs at six in the morning looking for the phone number for NHS Direct and hoping like crazy that whatever the hell had happened to my vision it was just going to be temporary. Cold sweats and near-blackouts in the smallest room? Now I know how Elvis must have felt when he was going, but at least I'm still here on the other side. That, though, was seriously worrying.

I had to call NHS Direct three times before one of the nurses actually got back to me. The first two times I got told to present at the ER(!) by one of the advisers; it was only on the third that I actually got to speak to someone with medical training. She told me to drink a lot of fluids and monitor myself for any signs of kidney failure just in case; thankfully for me, I have enough of a medical grounding to do this All By Myself. My back aches a little, admittedly, but that's usually a sign of Teh Sick for me and anyway, my kidneys have been making their presence felt numerous times during the night. As long as my eyes don't start going yellow that's good enough to get me by.

I now have a bottle of Evian to sip - well, okay, it's tap water in one of those awesome flip-cap squeezy bottles that say threatening things like 'for hygenic reasons this bottle is intended for the exclusive use of Evian water', as if that's really going to be enough to stop people using them as flasks - and a sore ass.

Gah. Just GAH. I only got over feeling achy a week ago. Now I have an all-new series of aches in different locations. WHAT JOY.

... and before that, I was actually doing quite well with my fic, too.

The moral of this sad, sad tale is that I am never eating tinned tomato soup again. That's what I was doing when the sicks started, and rightly or wrongly I'm choosing to blame all my woes on it. Well, it's either that or Ken Hidaka has a seriously vengeful Old-Testament God on his side and I'm an agnostic, so I'd rather believe in the tomato soup.