We’re away for our annual Berrigan Cup weekend visiting Hanno. It’s one we look forward to all year as we catch-up with family and friend while we’re here. Archie loves his Godfather and enjoys hanging out with him, we love seeing Hanno’s folks and for me it gives me a chance to run on the flat. Bliss.
On Wednesday this week I started struggling to breathe while I ate my lunch, that afternoon I felt pretty ordinary; waking up to a snotty and hot Archie on Thursday we both stayed at home in our PJs and watched DVDs. Friday I was back at work as if I’m going away for the weekend, it ain’t cricket not going in. I still didn’t feel great, but drove to Shepparton after we’d collected Hubs. We had a nice dinner, changed drivers and completed our journey. So far, so normal.
Friday night I slept like a log, but started coughing in the morning. I went into the pharmacy here in town and explained I’d brought a cold up with me, but despite my best efforts, couldn’t shift anything with my cough. I got given a peach flavoured syrup (insert green barf face emoji here) and it started to loosen everything up as promised.
I now sound like an old sailor with a pipe.
It’s Sunday afternoon, I’ve just had a shower after spending all day in bed, I watched Moana and wafted to Bob Ross. While I’ve graduated to the couch, I nearly had to sit down in the shower.
Needless to say, neither one of my two flat long runs I had planned this weekend have come to fruition. Off to try and get a prescription tomorrow, not sure what bit of me is infected, but it’s defeated me this weekend.