| No, neither do I! But I'm fortunate in that my other | | | | Then your sister rings! 'What do you think we should |
| half and I are pretty healthy. I can't actually | | | | do about Mum, Mel?' You'd like to be a time-traveller |
| remember the last time either of us visited the | | | | to some ethereal Desert Island, and give essence of |
| doctor - except when we went to get our flu jabs. | | | | Death Cap to both your sister and Alexander Graham |
| We've reached that sort of age, you see. | | | | Bell. Life could be sweet without the phone. |
| Consequently, I don't know much about the | | | | . . . WHEN YOU'RE THE MEAT PASTE IN THE |
| symptoms of Man Flu, other than what my | | | | MIDDLE |
| daughters tell me in respect of sons-in-law. But when | | | | Your daughter rings to ask if you're well-enough to |
| I had that jab, I found myself suffering with the | | | | look after the twins next day because she's on a |
| female version. And boy, did I suffer! You know the | | | | course. 'Of course,' you lie. 'What time does it end?' |
| sort of thing? Sleep having eluded you overnight, you | | | | She tells you to have an early night, to look after |
| wake up next morning feeling utterly ghastly: stuffed | | | | yourself, and you know, because she's a mother, |
| ears behaving as though they've been pumped full of | | | | that she understands the futility of such advice. Next |
| the insulating foam that lines the cavity walls of your | | | | morning, she brings you her inhaler, and you hang |
| house (unless you happen to have shares in British | | | | your head over a rising mist of menthol which |
| gas); throat believing it's swallowed a golf ball, if not a | | | | scrapes the skin off the back of your throat more |
| tennis ball; head exploding; and nose like a blocked | | | | effectively than nitro mores on varnish. The twins, |
| drain in need of a plumber and a plunger. | | | | fortunately, are subdued. Perhaps it's the sight of |
| BEST TREATMENT FOR FLU? DEPENDS IF IT'S THE | | | | grandma's red shiny nose and scarecrow hair that |
| FEMALE VERSION | | | | make them look askance, as if she's a stranger to |
| I don't know the cure for Man Flu, but hey! you're | | | | them. |
| female. You gotta get out of bed. And doing the | | | | MEDICATION FOR FLU |
| washing is woman's work. (What is it about men and | | | | Your husband buys you some of those |
| a washing machine?) Whatever - it didn't get done | | | | decongestants that make your tongue feel as if it's |
| over the weekend because you were trying to | | | | been hanging around the Sahara Desert for the last |
| reduce the ironing pile before adding to it again, and a | | | | decade, and points out, lovingly, that they're the |
| great heap now awaits you on the bathroom floor, | | | | non-drowsy sort. You don't tell him, but you long for |
| scattered, because the family, if they noticed it at all, | | | | the drowsy sort which will give you the excuse of |
| simply took it to be a novelty bath mat. As if that's | | | | dropping off on the sofa after lunch. And then you |
| not enough, there's a living to be earned. And if you | | | | spend night two in a state of demented hyperactive |
| work from home, as I do - job-sharing with my | | | | sleeplessness - only to discover that the stimulants in |
| husband - there's no way you're going to get out of | | | | the non-drowsy formula are the cause. |
| sitting in front a computer for at least part of every | | | | By Wednesday your limbs are aching nearly as much |
| day. You groan. | | | | as your ear, throat, jaw, teeth, neck and head. Is |
| HOW TO MAKE A TOASTED SANDWICH . . . | | | | this the result of the flu you deny you have, or your |
| Your mother rings. 'You sound terrible', she says. But | | | | fight with the duvet, the pillow and the mattress? |
| as she continues you realise that this is not so much | | | | After a cocktail of meds, you feel sick to your |
| sympathy for you as self-pity because you're not | | | | stomach, and the idea of falling under a bus seems |
| going to be a blind bit of use to her. She doesn't | | | | infinitely more appealing than the (unlikely) offer of a |
| want to get what you've got, you see. You love her | | | | holiday in Hawaii would be. Thursday, Friday, Saturday |
| to bits, and you realise that at her great age, her | | | | and Sunday run into each other in a sticky pool of |
| needs are probably greater than yours. But what | | | | snot and nausea. |
| answers can you give her when she's desperately in | | | | APOLIGIES |
| need of a holiday from your father and his dementia, | | | | Then comes today! And another article due. Hey, you |
| there's no one else to look after him, and guilt | | | | think, I'll just let my readers know that I'm a little off |
| prevents her from putting him into respite care. You | | | | colour, and ask them if they'll mind if I keep it short |
| listen, make what you intend to be soothing noises | | | | and sweet for now - just a sentence or two. So this |
| but actually sound more like a bull-frog in the mating | | | | is it folks. Sorry to let you down. Hope to be back |
| season, and try to reinforce what your sister's been | | | | with you properly soon! |
| telling her. | | | | |