Count Your Blessings

You may not think this but you’re all very lucky that you’re reading this. This week has been hell and quite frankly I’ve been a hero.

The adoption process has thrown up many trials and tribulations over the last few months but the last week has been the most harrowing of them all frankly.

I’ve had a cold, people. Well, flu really, I suppose. [Note to self – Google the symptoms of pneumonia].

buffalo

As such, this blog is likely to be short (You’re very lucky).  Enjoy getting a few days’ peace away from the ramblings of a man high on a cocktail of drugs that would very likely fell a Cape Buffalo. An adult male one. With massive horns. So high, I’m imagining myself to be a Cape Buffalo. An adult male one. With massive horns.

The worst thing has been that I’ve had very little sympathy, despite severe pneumonia.

It seems the rest of the DB household have been suffering with minor snuffles. For heaven’s sake, pull yourselves together. I have tuberculosis.

All three occupants of the DB household have been floored this week. B has had a cold, the like of which I’ve never seen a human have before. He’s been amazingly stoical and just got on with it.

My particular highlight was the birthday party we went to on Wednesday when I’d estimate he managed to infect 23 people. Good work kiddo! As we were leaving the UN biological weapons inspectors arrived. If North Korea is interested in making an offer, I’m willing to talk.

On the basis that the Verve knew nothing and in fact the drugs do work, I’ve decided to adopt his medication regime. At the moment, my colleagues are sitting here trying to work out from which part of my body the smell of Vicks Vapour Rub is emanating.

It’s my feet. Obviously.

I read somewhere that rubbing it on your feet stops you coughing. My cough is terrible. My loafers are fragrant. My athlete’s foot is on fire.

Right, that’s enough for one day. I’m off for a drink.

Mine’s a pint.

Of Calpol.

Well I have got chronic bronchitis.

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