At the moment I'm feeling a bit of a fraud, sitting here, tapping away. However, bitter experience tells me that if I bounce up and say "I'm fine", set off on my rounds for the day (coffee with parents, three and a half hours teaching samba and recorders, an hour of private teaching in the evening) I will be flattened again by evening. I don't feel quite so bad about letting this school down - they won't have to pay me, and the children come out of ordinary lessons to the recorder classes. In other schools, if I don't turn up the teachers have to alter their plans and suddenly deliver a lesson when they would otherwise be doing something else.
I'm learning to pay attention to the signs; eyes refusing to stay open, increased breathlessness, thigh muscles feeling as though I have just climbed the Empire
State Building. That's how I felt when I got back from a day teaching yesterday. If I just keep going, I will end up with another chest infection. Boo-Hoo.
So, I have rung my parents to cry off, and will ring this afternoon's school - again - that makes three times this term, which is a bit upsetting) and spend the day in bed. I have even gone so far as to connect myself to my oxygen machine, which I normally only have to use at night, to give myself every chance to recuperate, hopefully BEFORE I'm actually ill again.
It's a new thing, this "giving in" to a lurgy instead of ploughing on with the aid of aspro and willpower. But there's no point in receiving good medical advice if you then don't follow it.
Someone is very pleased; the upstairs cat loves it when I'm having a duvet day. She has just cottoned on to what is happening and appeared beside me. She's got herself nicely settled but is making it nearly impossible for reach over and finish this post.