House of Pestillence

We have a tummy bug in the house. Beloved copped it the worst, and the shaking finger of suspicion points solidly at the bacon we had in our dinner on Thursday night. They have been able to eat real food on Friday, but only for dinner.

It's nasty, whatever this is. I don't think it's entirely the bacon's fault. It could well be a contributing factor in lowering body reserves etc. etc.

I've crashed hard enough to catch chicken pox three more times after my first encounter as a child. Even though I'm immune. And every single time had a follow-up with shingles. Needless to say, I don't try to run my system down, but it happens whether I try or I don't.

Beloved is going to a doctor we like on Monday, for an appointment which is later than an appointment with a doctor we don't like. Any doctor who's unwilling to do any kind of homework and infinitely repeating, "You eat fat, you get fat"... that's not the kind of doctor I want to see about anything.

I'm pretty sure that doctor doesn't even notice that we're not seeing her any more.

I have a new scheduling site that is, so far, NOT eating my scheduled posts. Hooray.

Which means that, as I continue to add to it, I should be set for unforeseen circumstances. Like falling over with this damned gastro bug. And probably catching chicken pox again.

But I can still write no matter how blasted I am with Lurgi, so there is that small boon.

Even if I have to write in bed.