FIVE DAYS.

Well, that’s a strange thing. I have been ill. I am never ill. I have taken to my bed once in the last 8 1/2 years. Well, that’s twice now. And when you are ill and can’t really function, it doesn’t half make you count your blessings.

I was unwell for five days. For two of those I was fit for nothing and in bed or equivalent. For the other three I kept the bare essentials going but did nothing else. Now I am hugely behind in almost all the things that I hoped to achieve and will have to try to catch up next week. Five days.

I have friends with real illness, life threatening things who have been totally debilitated for months on end relying on friends and relations for all their needs. They have to deal with their own fears and the fears of those close to them whilst protecting the children. They can’t remember what it feels like to feel well because it has been so long since they took something as fundemental as well being for granted. Being ill is a full time occupation. Five days.

I am well again. A bit thin and low on power but better. If I believed in God I would thank Him for my health. As it is I shall just have to continue to count my lucky stars.

What do you think? I'd love to know...