Silence of the Death Rattle Cough.

On this non descript Saturday afternoon in late January I am contemplating what has happened in my life over the past two weeks. I have been sick, really sick.

For almost nine days I felt like death. Boxes of paracetamol were consumed, I froze, I sweated, I barely ate and at night time terrifying paranoid nightmares. 

Now the fever has broken, the dreams have dissipated and the sachets of paracetamol lie unopened. 

All that's left is utter exhaustion and the hack of a death rattle cough. Around me is silence. Not many reached out to me and my social media silence went largely un noticed.

Despite being so ill I should have retired to my bed and asked the doctor for a sick I carried on working for four days this week. Three solid days of online university. My fourth enrolment at a university in my lifetime. Then yesterday trying to play catch up. 

This weekend will come and go, I will improve and spring will keep marching towards us. Roll on the spring!

I Heard a Voice. 

Seasonal Flu.

On this dull Sunday afternoon I feel dreadful. Have done since Tuesday. Banging headache, backache, shivers, fever and sore throat. Add in insomnia and I'm not doing so great. 

I've only truly had flu twice in my life. This feels as bad, definitely worse than covid. Maybe it is flu once again. 

It's beginning to impact mentally too. Loneliness. Isolation. Insidious self doubt. Replaying the wrongs of recent years. Fear. The whole package is there. But will not let it defeat me. Too much at stake.

Staving off the sneezing I write to you whilst listening to Palestrina. One of the first recordings I did. Beautiful but fiendishly difficult to sing the Ave Maria mass is so renaissance Europe. 

The world outside continues to go mad as the conflagration in the Middle East spreads ever wider. People here are polarised. I do not know what to think other than to just focus on what I can control. 

I haven't been out since Friday barring getting paracetamol and takeaway. Somehow I have to be ready to start my fourth university course on Tuesday. This time at the University of East Anglia. Not my choice but will see how it goes. Currently it won't even let me into their system as it doesn't recognise the correct password. I've requested a reset but it has been sent to an email address I cannot access without said password. Not an auspicious start!

Back to today I have to log on to send some work emails, not good when sick, and tie up loose ends. Then I will cook roast lamb. 

Have a great Sunday. 

I Heard a Voice. 

A Little Mozart.

Greetings on a cold January Sunday morning. I'm told it's set to get colder.

Home alone Mozart plays and I'm trying to stay warm. I feel very little today, neither manic nor depressed, neither anxious nor at peace. I just am today. 

The week was long but not without success. There were irritants of course but all jobs have those. I'm making progress one day at a time. 

Much of my surrounding cast have been struck by the latest in a whole series of overlapping cold and viruses. After myself being affected all through autumn I'm relieved that at the moment I am okay. 

As is my wont today will focus on my kitchen. A nectarine salad with feta will be my lunch. Roast beef tonight. I've finally used my tagine our team gave me for my birthday. Twice in fact with great success. Last night was lamb and apricot tagine. 

Later the Rams will play their wild card playoff game against the Lions in Detroit. Too late to watch live but I will watch the recording after work tomorrow. 

Enjoy your Sunday everyone. 

I Heard a Voice. 

A Day of Doubt.

Today has been miserable out. Heavy rain and gusting winds. That was after a New Year's Day full of doubt, overthinking, loneliness and flat mood followed by a night of insomnia. Not a good start.

Those days and nights come to be sometimes. The legacy of all these years of ups, downs and mental illness. On those days I just try to let it play out and learn to fight another day. 

Despite the the storm raging outside I'm in a better place. I popped out to The Waggoners to see off the lovely Helena who is off on her travels. A kind, smiling, intelligent 21 year old she has looked after me on my visits the last few months. 

Back home now in the warm my travels seem long gone. I have travelled extensively in my life, 17 choir tours between 1979 and 1996, travels alone to Holland and Spain, travels with friends and more recently trips with dad. 

Whether I do another trip I do not know. Today it feels too overwhelming. 

I do though recreate the marvellous cuisine of other cultures in my kitchen. People like my cooking. 

On this bleak winter day my adventure is closer to home. Lamb casserole using scrag end is bubbling away slowly on the hob. I believe it's called comfort food.

Tomorrow my holiday ends. The world is moving on its very dangerous way. But each it gets a little lighter. The bulbs will come in a few weeks. Spring will bring back the greenery. And I return to study for the first time since 2015.

I Heard a Voice.