Still not dead ...

[blamebrampton]

But I do feel like death warmed up.

As I was commenting to a friend the other day, I am at that stage of influenza where, in a 19th century novel, the doctor would reassure the family I am past the crisis and certain to pull through, and advise them to book a long holiday in a warm cottage by the seaside, where I should mind my chest for several months.

Instead, like every other twenty-first century sufferer lacking sufficient independent wealth, but possessed of enough wealth and health to not actually be dying -- for which I am grateful, I am dragging myself into work, where I spend several hours at a time wondering whether an en dash or em dash would best fit the use.

Ghastly.

In a week or two, I will have forgotten the whole hideousness until the next time I forget a flu shot, which says a lot about how amazingly healthy we are in this time and place.

Until my brain returns, sorry for all the comments I am missing leaving or replying to, sorry for the deranged ones I have managed, and I will catch up with everything on the weekend.

Comments

[quatrefoil.livejournal.com]

Well, it rather depends on who you were in the nineteenth-century novel, or in fact nineteenth-century reality. In an awful lot of cases you would just have died in the first place because no-one could have afforded the doctor's fees, or you would have been compelled to resume work up at t'mill, down t'pit or laying fires at 5 am, after which you would have died and your family would have been on the streets or in the workhouse.

That said, I do hope you feel properly better soon.

[blamebrampton.livejournal.com]

I translated myself EXACTLY, so I would be the genteel and comfortable if not wealthy bookish spinster, with cats.

[blamebrampton.livejournal.com]

PS Mr Brammers is, of course, my groom, which whom I have a friendly but entirely proper relationship.