I spent Wednesday morning as sick as a dog, that is, as sick as a very sick dog. In fact, as sick as a dog that’s spewing up everything it’s eaten in the previous day, and has truly revolting stuff coming out of its bottom. (Oh dear, is that too much detail?)
I think it was some kind of stomach bug. One thing’s for certain, it wasn’t not pleasant. When something like that hits, it’s a bit like the body has called a stop-work meeting. Everything is cleared out and a picket line is in place to prevent any more food or drink being accepted. And anything that does get in is thrown out again.
Eventually things settled down, and the customary sick diet of a glass of lemonade and a Sao
was deemed acceptable enough to be permitted to remain on the premises. By Thursday I felt as right as rain.
