Recovery from this thing that I’m calling post-viral fatigue is slow but sure. Since everyone who’s had it says not to overdo things I’ve been not overdoing things, but when the brain is recovered and screaming like a toddler that it’s bored, it’s hard not to get busy. This morning I went to see the nurse about my persistently blocked ears (‘keep up the good work and we’ll syringe them next week’ was the verdict) I found myself quite tired after walking there and back. Yesterday I managed some Spring cleaning (at least that’s what I’m calling it) and some serious guerrilla war on the ivy which is strangling our hedge – these activities being spaced out with long rests in between, were manageable. But today I reverted to my usual brisk walking pace to get to the doctor’s. Result: fatigue. As Mr Mickawber might have said: ‘Energy rising, expenditure low – result, recovery. Energy rising, expenditure high – result, fatigue.
Ah well. Fortunately I have nothing on till next week and no employers phoning me up to ask when I’ll be back at work (I have managed to placate my inner gangmaster by simply telling him to eff off.) In the meantime I’m listening to the excellent series A Terrible Country on radio 4.
Needless to say Project Fast has been postponed until I’m 100% better; it does not seem sensible to deplete my strength further by fasting, so it remains to be seen how much of Lent will be left by that time.
It’s always reassuring to encounter others who have had the same illness you’re undergoing, or in this case the same post-illness recovery period. I had heard before this whole protracted period began that it would be – well, protracted and that it would also be debilitating. ‘Oh, not for me,’ I thought in my smugness. ‘I do lots of yoga and have a great diet. I’ll be over this in no time.’ Oh, how are the self-righteous fallen! To date it has taken me a week, much of which has been spent in bed, and although I’m improving slowly it’s a gradual process and not, according to my latest source, to be taken lightly.
For, like Abraham, I was visited by three apparitions. They came bearing Labour party leaflets and when I told them of the parlous state I was in, one of their number, yea even a woman, did say she had suffered the selfsame plague and lo, it went on for Absolutely Ages. So I’m basically cancelling everything and doing just a little bit of pottering every day. Today’s pottering includes doing most of the Guardian Prize crossword, reading said Guardian, tutting and sighing over Brexit and
Oh. Yes. Before I finish I must say a word about the massacre at the Christchurch mosque. Not because this blog is important nor because anything I have to say is significant in any way but because to ignore it would be wrong. It’s hard to know what to say, except that these events have no place anywhere and that communities must redouble their efforts to support one another. I’m hoping this will happen in Loughborough and I know there is an event planned in Leicester.
Meanwhile I note the NZ Prime Minister’s response, that there ‘will be changes to the gun laws.’ Whereas in the US…
I guess they don’t have an NRA in New Zealand.
Oh, and I was going to blog about Comic Relief. I guess that’ll have to wait till tomorrow.