Hello-Hello,
So I know what you are all thinking. Am I dead? No?! Well Not quite. I certainly was last week though and as Monday's are normally my night to self-consume myself with Blog writing, however last week I was barely in a position to hold a conversation or eat, let alone write something. Now I am proclaiming that it all started I suppose on Saturday night where myself and Mr. Warehouse transformed ourselves from young sweethearts in love to a flesh-eating, disease-ridden Zombie Medical Team. Mr. Warehouse was my lead Consultant Doctor and I was a nurse. Nurse Price - Hmmm?!
It was a Halloween Party and rather unlike myself I had left everything till last minute and subsequently our plans to go as the Mad Hatter, fully complete with real china tea-cup impaled on face, and Mr. Warehouse as the March Hare from Alice in Wonderland (The original, not that crap Tim Burton churned out for his dwindling bank balance). So as the weekend approached faster than I anticipated Mr. Warehouse and I gave up on the hope of a warped Disney fantasy and opted for a fancy-dress shop bought costume. Nevertheless we spent most of the afternoon making fake blood, Halloween inspired cake pops and flinging a red concoction of pantry cupboard ingredient's at each other, making the whole of our little courtyard look like we had actually killed something. Good thing the Dog was still running around. Hanging up our outfits to dry, Mr. Warehouse and I took to the warmth of the inside in order to "glam" up for the party.
The annual bash is something that is hosted by Mr. Warehouse's Cousin and his wife, a lovely couple who enjoy Halloween as much as Jack and Sally, celebrating it bigger than some people do Christmas. They decorate the whole house; Bathroom, Reception Rooms, Hallways, Landings, Kitchens and Back Yard - All in hauntingly beautiful arrays of cobwebs, black and creeped out dec's. I cannot wait for the moment in my life that it is appropriate enough to have my own Halloween Party, although I am almost certain it will take many years, weeks and pennies to achieve the levels Mr. Warehouse's Cousin and his wife have achieved.
A successful few hours later, our costumes more intact than last year (Whereby Mr. Warehouse's overalls were quite literally ripped off his back when we dressed as the Big Bad Wolf and Little 'Dead' Riding Hood) we headed off home, and I was impressed that I had gone out of a night time and enjoyed myself at a Party whilst not drinking a single drop of Alcohol.
But it would appear that the effects of the Zombie Apocalypse did not wear off as fast as I had hoped, for as Monday afternoon approached I started to feel queasy. "Food might help" I thought. So I had my lunch, albeit late. It made the stomach cramps and nausea worse. "A glass of milk might make it better" I continued.
But again, it made everything worse. Dashing to the bathroom in order to vomit I knew I had to go to the doctors. I couldn't believe that yet again had the same symptoms I had a few weeks ago had returned and it would appear I again had a horrendous viral infection. Only this time I needed to be at work. Not just for the fact that it was a new job and I wanted to be there to learn and show I was willing, but also the simple fact they no matter how long you are with the company they do not pay sickness.
Shockingly poorly I went to the doctors and struggled driving home, vomiting not only in the doctors surgery but also outside the local Pharmacy whilst waiting for my prescription. I knew it was Halloween it was scary how sick I was feeling. Getting home I desperately tried to manager some bolognese but that came up as quick as it went down. Water and juice was unable to stay put also and by the time I had even thought about writing last week I was bent over double throwing up or curled up on Mr. Warehouse's lap, shivering under several blankets and layers of clothes. Having enough, my beautifully caring other-half put me to bed and left the bucket now used for such occasions and a glass of water to sip on, wrapping me up in the duvet and promising to check on me every hour, which he did but if only to make sure I hadn't choked on my own stomach acid.
Two days later I returned to work, still not feeling great but with limiting options since I wasn't getting paid for the pleasure of sitting at home in my pyjamas under a duvet with a sick bowl to hand. I am feeling much better today and throughout the last couple of days, I am just hoping it doesn't attack me again with another bout of The Zombie Sickness Bug.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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