I’m not referring to cobbled horse racing here, Bolshevik revolutionaries or Del-boy and Rodney. I am referring to a serious case of some stomach bug that ruined Kym and mines weekend and my Monday just gone.
Things had started so well on Friday. Dinner out with Lord and Lady Plunket and the Avidgami’s to celebrate something, we weren’t really too sure what. A fabulous Japanese meal in town, dozens of dishes floating about on the table and many bottles of sake.
But Saturday morning I woke early, something of a shock in itself, wasn’t too sure why so went to the loo and promptly found out then. Kym followed me in shortly afterwards (bad luck on her part) and we subsequently spent the next two days on the couch with stomach pains, nausea, flu-like symptoms and the constant threat of mad-dashes to the loo.
Then we remembered, way too late, that during the week we’d visited friends who’d been through the experience recently, we blame them of course, but apparently there’s plenty of it going about (even shut down a whole ward at Waikato Hospital a few weeks back)
Its only now at lunchtime on Wednesday that I can honestly say I’ve got my appetite back. I love spicy foods and until today I just couldn’t muster the thought of anything other than Marmite on toast or a flat lemonade (those two great kiwi cure-alls).
Amazing how much of a wide-berth folks give you when your honest about domestic outbreaks of communicable disease. Not a soul turned up at the front door. The nearest thing to human contact I had was waving to Kym’s parents as they picked up a DVD I left for them in the mail-box. I dont think I’ve seen their car leave rubber patches in the driveway like that before