The funeral cold
Apr. 12th, 2026 10:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
baroque_mongooseOne thing I'm not sure I explained very clearly about the funeral was that, when I arrived, my sister had a filthy cold. This meant that my other sister and family went to stay in a hotel instead, because brother-in-law was absolutely terrified of catching this cold; partly this is because even now he's still not fully recovered from long COVID, but mainly it's because he has an operation coming up which has already been postponed a few times, and he was extremely anxious for it not to be postponed again. So they all decamped to this hotel, which meant my sister now had free space, which meant I stayed with her rather than being parked over at Mum's house. That did mean I had to shuffle up and down the stairs on my bottom, but overall it was much more convenient because my sister didn't have to keep schlepping me (and wheelchair, and luggage) around.
Yesterday, following Friday's digestive turmoil, I still felt quite washed out. This is not like me. I will normally start bouncing back almost as soon as Sibyl starts unblocking herself. There was, of course, the fact that I didn't this time; I had to wait till I was sick later. Even so, I'd normally expect to be completely fine the following day, not just 85 to 90% fine.
And then I woke up this morning, wondered why I felt a little off, and then realised I had the start of this cold squatting evilly in the back of my throat. Once I started moving, I felt rather more than a little off. I'm a tad feverish. Heigho. At the moment that's all it is, but I am expecting the manic hanky-washing phase to have kicked in properly by tomorrow morning at the latest.
So I'm now praying very hard that neither brother-in-law has succumbed to it. The husband of the sister with the cold is A, he is very nice, and he too has an operation scheduled... for tomorrow; he's had trouble with his eyes all his life, and if all goes well he's going to get a cornea transplant tomorrow, which will help a great deal. The other brother-in-law, D, I do not especially like, though I can get on with him all right in a general social context; put it this way, he tried to sneak off to the Reform conference last autumn without telling my sister, passing it off as a work thing. I don't know whether I'm more annoyed about the nasty hateful politics or the deception involved, but I struck him off my Christmas list with the full approval of my sister. Nonetheless, he does need the operation and I wouldn't wish another postponement on him.
Anyway, with the help of some friends online I believe I have identified the Green Slices of Doom that were probably what thugged my guts on Friday. We think they were pickled cucumber. I do not get on well with cucumber at the best of times, and I would most certainly have avoided it if I'd known it was there; but it was impossible to tell what anything was because of the vinegar in the ketchup and mayonnaise, which was pretty much all I could taste other than the actual burger (and the burger was struggling). Meanwhile I have contacted Burger King and explained exactly what happened the other day, and I am rather hoping they will give me a refund. After all, it was the worst meal I've had for years and it then made me ill, so it's not exactly as if I got value for money there!
Yesterday, following Friday's digestive turmoil, I still felt quite washed out. This is not like me. I will normally start bouncing back almost as soon as Sibyl starts unblocking herself. There was, of course, the fact that I didn't this time; I had to wait till I was sick later. Even so, I'd normally expect to be completely fine the following day, not just 85 to 90% fine.
And then I woke up this morning, wondered why I felt a little off, and then realised I had the start of this cold squatting evilly in the back of my throat. Once I started moving, I felt rather more than a little off. I'm a tad feverish. Heigho. At the moment that's all it is, but I am expecting the manic hanky-washing phase to have kicked in properly by tomorrow morning at the latest.
So I'm now praying very hard that neither brother-in-law has succumbed to it. The husband of the sister with the cold is A, he is very nice, and he too has an operation scheduled... for tomorrow; he's had trouble with his eyes all his life, and if all goes well he's going to get a cornea transplant tomorrow, which will help a great deal. The other brother-in-law, D, I do not especially like, though I can get on with him all right in a general social context; put it this way, he tried to sneak off to the Reform conference last autumn without telling my sister, passing it off as a work thing. I don't know whether I'm more annoyed about the nasty hateful politics or the deception involved, but I struck him off my Christmas list with the full approval of my sister. Nonetheless, he does need the operation and I wouldn't wish another postponement on him.
Anyway, with the help of some friends online I believe I have identified the Green Slices of Doom that were probably what thugged my guts on Friday. We think they were pickled cucumber. I do not get on well with cucumber at the best of times, and I would most certainly have avoided it if I'd known it was there; but it was impossible to tell what anything was because of the vinegar in the ketchup and mayonnaise, which was pretty much all I could taste other than the actual burger (and the burger was struggling). Meanwhile I have contacted Burger King and explained exactly what happened the other day, and I am rather hoping they will give me a refund. After all, it was the worst meal I've had for years and it then made me ill, so it's not exactly as if I got value for money there!
