Since Wednesday I’ve been tad ill, flu symptoms: hot behind the eyes, hot flushes, achy, bloated stomach, shivers and sweats. It started off a few hours after lunch (roquefort endive salad and pork cutlet in a mustard cream sauce, 1/4L of red wine); thoughts of swine flu jumped into my mind, but I’ve not been to Mexico and I haven’t been into contact with any strangers; though that’s hard to say given that it’s the middle of the Cannes Film Festival, where there are all manner of people from all around the globe milling about. However, its more likely food poisoning from lunch or the previous night’s dinner.

So after three mild bouts of fever, chills, sweats, then normal for a few hours, I finally had the big one Thursday night. Went to bed early around 9h00 and had 5 hours of fever, then all of sudden 5 hours of the sweats. Had to change my bed clothes thrice and the bed sheets was soaked in sweat by the time I woke up. I felt very ragged. But the worst appeared to be over.

Being alone is often a bummer, but being alone and sick is even worse. You still have to cook for yourself, walk the dog, monitor your own condition. If there is ever a time when you need a companion or mother to help you, it has to be when you’re sick. I’ve had many illnesses since I was a baby that my mother nursed me through. And I think it is when you’re sick that you remember fondly the maternal care given to you, and how your mother’s embrace gave you warmth, energy, and much love.

Updated 2009-05-25: Appears my illness is the result of chickenpox (more), which I never had as a kid. What shit luck. Love to know where I got it from.