I’ve lost count of the number of times my winter cold/cough has flared up to lay me low since it started early in December. Here we are, almost to the end of March, and I’ve been hit again. Just when you think it’s safe to scream in the water, eh?
Horrid.
I have an appointment with the doctor on Monday and he’s going to have to deal with a patient who, quietly, pleasantly and firmly, is about to take over control of his case. I get the distinct impression that no-one in the new surgery has sat down and read through my medical notes. In consequence, the whole man is not being treated properly. If I don’t take charge the likelihood is that I’ll end up in hospital with acute bronicals.
There have been a number of reported cases in Welsh hospitals where a C. Difficile infection has taken older folks off to the happy hunting grounds after a winter of colds has left them with damaged resistance. Apart from a one-week course, I’ve steered clear of antibiotics because I know that they kill off the normal beneficial bacteria in the gut, leaving the patient wide open to infection.
As I say, horrid.
