On Tuesday, I was migraine-y, this is my word for when I don’t actually have a migraine but could if I’m not careful.  Careful in this context means painkillers, lots of water and going home for a nap as soon as I finish work.

So I went home and had a sleep. About 8pm, I woke up and got myself ready for the next morning and had a shower. Where I noted my chest was covered with a rash. This was not lovely.

I’m still covered in that rash, I have a sore throat and I’m losing my voice, much to the delight of my colleagues (if they think I can’t find silent ways of making them do what I need them to do, they don’t know me as well as they think!).

General consensus (nurse on the phone, google) is that I have a mild virus, I’m sick enough to feel rubbish but not actually sick enough that I can’t function.  On the plus side although I feel scuzzy, the rash isn’t anywhere that shows when I’m dressed. My life is a series of being grateful for mercies small and big.

Ma says my body’s reaction to being colds and flu is abnormal, I say I’m sensitive.