Got home Monday afternoon not feeling too great. Maria, my housekeeper, did not make me feel any better by say that the flu that one gets in August is far, far worse than the flu you might get earlier in the winter. Any way I dosed myself with anything and everything that looked like it might help and got into bed. Maria brought me some nice hot tea which did help.
Woke up Tuesday morning with my throat feeling like I'd swallowed a whole roll of razor wire. I phoned in sick, scarcely being able to talk. As soon as the doctors rooms opened I phoned for an appointment. Receptionist said that if I came straight away, Dr would see me before the rush. After peering down my throat and muttering something about raw liver gone very bad, said it was not the flu, but some virus that's doing the rounds. Gave me a sick note and prescription to cope with the pain and fever, and told me to get into bed and stay warm.
The dogs are fed up with the bed, can't make out why we can't go for a walk. Only Tombi is faithful, lying curled up behind my knees all day. Sissie jumps on the bed now and again, shoves her snout under my cheek and gives me a shove, as if to say get up now. Lady pops in now and again to have a look and then wonders off again. Cat? Well Cat doesn't seem to care much for sick people.
It seems that the average persons immune system functions very well up to about 70 years of age then starts to weaken. As someone on another blog said, "three score years and ten," then the manufactures warranty expires. Fortunately my warranty has a few more years to run.