It didn't take me long to decide that marching around with the samba band, followed by a couple of class music lessons, recorder lessons and ukulele club would be a Very Bad Idea.
So, I rang in sick, and went to the Doctor. She kindly explained to me that "resting" meant doing "nothing that requires concentration". She then went through my plans for the rest of the week and half term, vetoed most of them and sent me away to Rest. Ah. So I have taken her advice and have been resting. Sort of.
I did go up to London on Monday for a routine check-up (with the Doctor's permission). In spite of the remains of the chest infection, my test results all look reasonably good. That's me pronounced ok (once my chest is clear) for the next six months by that clinic. I'm still feeling a bit bruised from a ruthless echo-cardiogram. "Sorry, I get a better picture when I press harder, and sometimes I forget that it is a real person there". Yes. I can vouch for that! She also had a habit of telling me to "breathe in and hold your breath", but not say when I could take another breath.
Or else "breathe out and "hold........................................................" which isn't any better. I survived.
On Tuesday and Wednesday various friends that I have not had a chance to meet up with for months and months came round, for coffee or, lunch.
Today I drove through appalling rain to meet friends for lunch and discuss a Lent project that we will be running together. Over lunch the weather cleared and the sun was blinding me by the time we had reached the coffee stage.
I drove back into Spring - catkins, the size of fluffy golden lamb's, tails brighten the hedgerows and big fat fluffy pussy-willows are out.
Once home, I discovered that the anenomes by the front door have come to the conclusion that it is safe to come out. More daffodils are appearing every day.
Let it rain! I have seen the future, and it is all blue skies and purple and yellow flowers.
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