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In Sickness and in Health

In Sickness and in Health
In Sickness and in Health

In Sickness and in Health

It has been my turn to be ill recently. We are both under a lot of strain what with visas and the requirements therefore, which no-one in authority seems willing to commit to. In fact, my visa days are over. I have a visa for Thailand until the day after my flight leaves, and that is good enough for me, although I am very involved with my wife’s visas since the applications are in English.

Neem requires a visa for Spain and then one for the UK. The Spanish Embassy in Bangkok is very unhelpful and Britain is notoriously mean when it comes to handling out visas, no matter what the press and the Tories say. It is always a struggle to get a visa for there and I have always found that embarrassing. If Britain’s fortunes as a holiday destination are on the wane, the government only has itself to blame.

So, I thought that possibly all this was getting to me and making me ill. Others suggested that I had a hangover, but i knew that I hadn’t drunk enough for one of those, unless my poor old body has finally given up on me.

Yesterday, I lay on my paillasse on the floor of my office moaning and groaning from nine the night before until about three in the afternoon and then I had a really weird experience. A story unfolded in my head. It was not unlike Chalie’s Angels, but the guy with the three girls was a flasher and they kept them ‘near’ to them in order to monitor his behaviour.

I was the narrator, not unlike Bosley, but I was telling myself the story so fast that I couldn’t remember it, yet when I tried to slow down, I could not. This went on for six hours – I could not stop ‘talking’ to myself in my head. Then, my nose started to run and I was relieved.

I knew what the problem was: I had a cold, which is fairly unusual in Thai villages, since it is usually foreigners who bring colds over and we haven’t got any here at the moment.

Apparently, the baby has had it for a few days. I have heard her cough, but not cry, yet I feel like crying all the time. How can a three-year old girl put up with it better than I can?

I suppose it just goes to show that man-flu does exist.

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All the best,


Podcast: In Sickness and in Health

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