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Last night, I had a nightmare that my skin was covered in tiny, white-hot cubes. I had to shed them as fast as I could, throwing them into the ocean, but I couldn't throw them fast enough and they were starting to burn me.
At that point I woke up. I had some Panadol (an anti-pyretic), and nonetheless discovered, some time later when the Panadol had had time to kick in, that I was still rocking a temperature of approximately 39 degrees.
I set about cooling off a bit, and eventually got back to sleep, then woke up again when my fever had broken and I was now cold. Turned the fan off and the heater on and added a blanket, but the net result is that while I'm no longer in fear of cooking my brain from the inside out, I've gone from "light, occasional cough" to "no, seriously, my lungs are making an escape attempt".
So, if I have been supposed to contact you in some fashion, and I haven't, you can probably infer the explanation from this post: I've been rather sick.Current Mood:  sick
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