Four days ago, I contracted a headcold. Prickly throat, grumpy cough. It was mild to inclement, as colds go. I self medicated with 5000mg of calcium in powder format, and congratulated myself on my stoicism in the face of disease.
Turned out the cold was just warming up. Yesterday morning, it struck me down in my prime. I am currently a scene of carnage: small, rubbery red eyes; backfiring lungs; my throat an acrid furnace; snot exploding from every orifice and several pores. It might be the calcium.
All I felt like doing was lying in bed, moaning in between sips of brandy. Unfortunately, I was flying to London. I was going to decant a few million milligrams of calcium powder into an empty jar, but feared Security might think it was cocaine. So I didn’t. Doesn’t seem to have done me much good, *cough!*
My ears popped with unprecedented violence on the plane and have not fully unpopped. Chantal met me at Liverpool Street Tube Station. Conversation was tricky, because everything sounded like it was under water. Or it might just have been the effect of a dense, humid cloud of snot vapour