Politely turning down offers is not an option. I can’t look after the kids, I can’t do anything. My chest is rattling and my skin oozing sweat, my legs weak and unreliable.
I don’t even feel like writing. Speaking hurts.
Doctor saw me within hours, out of hours, efficient and kind. Pneumonia, he says, not flu.
I’ve been cared for all weekend. I have been looked after. It feels good, when everything else hurts.
The best thing about being ill is that you can’t help but be helped. You see the very best in the very best people.