Another day, still ill.  Made it through the 80’s party okay at least, but this weekend has become a bit of a wash.  Not as sick as I’ve been – but bad enough that doing anything has felt like too much effort.

It’s kind of disappointing – I’ve managed to stay ill-free for nearly 3 months, which is a new record.  Between childhood, teen years and then up until last year it seemed I was perpetually sick.  Growing up I would catch a cold in winter, and then once the warmer weather showed up hay fever would settle in.  I’d only get a few weeks peace in autumn – probably why that ended up being my favourite season.

I’m sure anyone who survived through the British schooling system will be well aware of the health perils.  My co-workers are constantly bemoaning the epidemics that fly through their schools.  They however, keep their kids off; when I was at school there was a general rule:

‘If you were well enough to get out of bed, you were well enough to go to school.’

So we’d all go to school with blocked noses and hacking coughs and sore throats…and then pass them on to everyone else…who would pass them back on to you once you’d recovered.  Higher education was a little more tolerable – thankfully the older one got, the more trusting parents were with your own health-gauging facilities.  Think I only ever abused that trust twice too.

University however…was a whole other ball game.  Living alone, on a budget, with genuine danger in missing classes…people got sick and came in when they shouldn’t, and I was no exception.  Many a weekend and day off were spent huddled underneath blankets and only emerging to choke down some cold medicine.  But managed to avoid missing too many classes due to illness – the one exception was when I had to go home for ‘quarantine’ when I had suspected mumps (a positive blood test would have had me in lock down for 2 weeks and put the university and my workplace on high alert).  Thankfully it turned out to just be a viral infection and I was back in a week (just in time for coursework deadlines, joy).

These days I’m a lot more careful with my health – though what snapped me into reality didn’t happen until last year.  While working two jobs, I was burning the candle at both ends, and my part time job specialises in guilt trips.  Whenever I felt ill, and called in sick?  They always managed to talk me into coming in anyway, even if I spent most of the shift throwing up.  Combined with my mantra of ‘well enough to get out of bed’, I even ignored my full time co-workers concerns when I dragged myself in.

It eventually all came to a head just after New Years in 2012.  I had been working a stupid amount of extra hours at my part time job, and my body basically shut down.  Can’t even describe what it felt like, but the Doctor my co-workers finally convinced me to see told me to take the week off and not go anywhere near work until I felt at least 90%.  It was the first time I’d ever taken off more than a day for my health…and boy did I need it.  When I finally did go back to work, I’d made the decision to leave my part time job, and to actually take time off when I felt sick so I could actually get better.

Despite that, really hoping that if I give myself a restful day tomorrow, I will be recovered for Monday.  Does mean that the plan to give it my all at Sunday open training might not be the best idea though.