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Stick upThis is what I look like today. Yes, I have been attacked by the common cold, which, or so I have read, can come in one of at least 200 flavours!

My throat feels like it is doing battle with tiny shards of glass, and my nose is as full as a Turkish Dolmas in season.

My lovely friends have offered up advice for making me feel better – Manuku honey, hot toddies, propolis pastilles and even drowning myself in Shiraz (I loved that one!) – I will try them all apart from the Shiraz as I am currently taking muscle relaxants for the trapped nerve in my shoulder….got to say, Mr Good Doctor (real name changed to protect his identity) knew what he was talking about there.  Although Mr Lee (acupuncture) was making it feel better, there was a long way to go and I’d just had enough. As soon as I took the tablets two nights ago, I could feel the full size boiled egg shape reducing and I’m happy to report it is now more like a fried egg. The other offer on the table, from Mr Good Doctor, was a cortisone injection…..Hmmmm, I’m not really a fan to be honest but, although I refused that for my shoulder, I did whip my ankle out and flash it at him. His diagnosis? A sheath fracture at the entry point of the achilles to the foot.

The achilles saga has been going on for over a year – I have written about it before so I won’t bore you with the details here, suffice it to say, over a year of constant pain, no dancing and a life in boots, while drooling at high heels in shop windows – most mornings I feel like yelling “yeter artik (enough already) and shaking my fist at the sky.  So, anyway, weighing up the pros and cons, I decided to cave and this morning, me and my stinking cold, toddled off to see Mr Good Doctor for my injection.

Walking down the street in my scarf brought me a few strange looks; I really wasn’t sure why. No-one would pay attention to that at home.  At the Docs, the receptionist, waiting patients and the nurse, all either raised their eyebrows or frowned at me. Hmmmmmmmmm

Mr Good Doctor, on seeing me quipped

“are you off robbing banks after this?”  I smiled at him, although he couldn’t see it, and informed him I was protecting him from my germs.

“Don’t worry, I already have some” he said

“All the more reason for me to keep my scarf on then” I told him – Well, I certainly didn’t want any more germs did I?

“Would you like some antibiotics?” he offered

I declined.  I’m rifling through Mother Natures Apothecary first.

Mr Good Doctor injects my ankle in two places, then tells me to go home and rest. I hand him a Christmas Card – It says

“If you manage to fix my ankle, it will be a Christmas Miracle – Here’s Ho Ho Hoping”

That done, I nip into Sainsburys as Ive ran out of Soya Milk. Now here’s a question for you: Can you remember a time when you nipped into a supermarket for one item and came out with just that?  Me neither.  In my basket goes some champers, some red wine, some Heinz tomato soup (an absolute must when poorly and you don’t have a Magi to hand), oooooo and look at that camembert and those mince pies on special offer…..

At the check out, I place my basket and look up at the cashier. She is just staring at me and as I meet her eyes, I see a flash of doubt in them.  Ah yes of course, the scarf I think, but my mouth has a mind of its own;  “It’s a stick up” I say laughingly. Of course, all she can hear is a muffled “mmmfffmmmmmmfffffff” and at that she frowns.

Pulling the scarf away from my mouth but not down to expose it, I tell her that I have a rotten cold and I don’t want to pass on my germs. She stops frowning at that and says “oh, that’s OK then. Under the circumstances, I wont ask you to remove your scarf” – Now its my turn to frown, “remove my scarf?” I say

She then tells me that its policy and everyone who has part of their face obstructed by a scarf etc…. is asked to remove it so it can be seen on the security cameras.

As she packs my bag, she also tells me she has just got over the very same cold. “How long did it last?” I ask her

“Around two and a half weeks” she says chirpily

I give her my best Derren Brown stare then and say “I’m sure you mean two and a half days don’t you?” –  It works a treat and she agrees with me!

Back at home, I start to make a cuppa and realise I forgot the soya milk. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Having been told to rest, I put on my jimmies, take my laptop into the bedroom and get myself settled for an online catch up. Had I been in Turkey now, Murat would have packed me off to the village and I would have been indulged and mollycoddled by my mother in law (she would have loved every minute of it). As it is, I will just have to put Jordan on tomato soup duty when he gets in from the gym.

Thinking about my day, I mull over the Sainsburys scarf saga. Not once did it enter my head to start shouting about my human rights. Had the cashier asked me to drop my scarf, I would have simply complied and not thought about it. What would be the point of arguing? I have nothing to hide apart from a snotty nose.  I wasn’t planning a stick up and as it turns out, it was them all along. It’s Sainsburys that stick up for themselves – they stick up for their policy even if it may invoke a delicate situation – Well done Sainsburys, I’m impressed.

Anyhoo, I shall remain in bed today, catching up with online stuff and then? Well,  it just has to be back to back Dr Who and more tomato soup.

Tomato Soup

Be well people x

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