My encounter with the piggy ‘flu is more or less finished. I wake feeling throaty and tired but it’s wonderful what an encounter with strong hot coffee will do. I am profoundly grateful for my swine ‘flu jab, and convinced that my easy escape is largely due to it.
Graham’s not doing so well. He lays carefully in bed, trying not to move, and groaning pitifully when he does. Liquid, a little medication, and a lot of moaning seems to be all the treatment he’s wanted up to now. He managed a poached egg with beans on toast yesterday evening so he’ll not fade away. I go along every half an hour to straighten the bed and ask if he wants something–if he’s awake at the time–and all his needs are taken care of, especially on the sympathy front. I’m confidently expecting it to turn over to ‘man-flu’ sometime late this afternoon or early evening, at which the sympathy will be folded gently and stored away until the next time it’s needed.
Dolly of course, snoozes through it all. Mega-cats do not do piggy ‘flu.
