Norabatty virus: extreme dieting

Day 2 of novovirus, yaldi! My smug record of avoiding sick bugs all these years has gone down the pan, literally. At one point, in the wee small hours, i had decided i wasn't battling the norabatty virus but was in labour, as the cramps were exactly like fully dilated labour contractions at stage 3 thunderbirds are go.

Poor Dave, i had to wake him a couple of times. Firstly, for about five minutes, to share my pain and garner sympathy. Secondly, for much longer, so he could patiently persuade me that no, i wasn't about to give birth to a third child (incidentally, a new born would have had considerably more control of their bodily functions at that point).

The weight loss, hoorah! Small comfort. What has been more amusing in between writhing in agony and regularly trying to make it in time for the trips to the ladies room, has been googling novovirus ((which sounds so much more exotic than winter vomiting bug) symptoms and hitting on a particularly cracking NHS page. Folk have uploaded their comments describing their recent experience of concurrently vomiting and well, the other. The other benefit is I have had sole use of the family IPad, as no one wants my plague germs.

I'm looking forward to being out of quarantine soon, not wanting to fall over as soon as i stand up, eating, and I'm sure the poor 100 acre wood spectators on the loft hatch will be glad to no longer be exposed to the norabatty virus in full technicolour.

Dave will be happier when I'm better, as I'll stop giving him blow by blow accounts of every body (dys)function. Perhaps that's his other reason for containing me upstairs, but fair enough, I dread to think that I may have passed this on to the kids, we will see what the next days and weeks being.

All hail dry toast and antibacterial hand wash!