When will it all end? Since I last wrote, Phil has been in hospital for his spinal operation, which seemed to go well. But since then he has had disturbing side-effects. Not that I have any first-hand knowledge, because I have been too ill to go and see him.

Yes, I’ve now managed to acquire an upper respiratory tract infection, which proceeded in traditional fashion, meaning that I’ve been out of commission for three days, and feeling pretty lousy. Managed to get up today, but made the mistake of ringing the surgery to find out about my blood test. Turns out I have a kidney problem of some sort, but not urgent enough to get me an appointment within the next month. Dot is pretty angry about this and is trying to make me ring for an urgent appointment tomorrow. I have to say I don’t feel right in that area, but then again, I don’t have any urgent symptoms like pain or blood loss, just a certain tightness which may not be anything to do with it.

She herself still coughs a lot, but she seems to feel all right, apart from a loss of energy. She went to orchestra last night, and today she braved Storm Doris to go to Fleggburgh  School, and later to the sugar champagne party at Kirby Bedon, which I was sorry to miss.

Happily, on Monday morning, by some freak of circumstance, I was well enough to attend the Paston Footprints steering committee meeting at our house, and was able to take the minutes. Dot made some excellent biscuits, but I’ve still lost half a stone. The trouble with an URTI is that you can’t read or watch TV. You just have to lie there. Getting pretty fed up.