Some of you may know that I haven't been well since mid-February. It started as an 'ordinary cold' - the usual thing, coming from nowhere: sniffles and sneezes, a raised temperature that cooled off, then catarrh, then a persisistent cough. The catarrh and the cough are still around, though less than they were. I dare say that in a few days' time I'll be all right again. But meanwhile I've been feeling rotten enough to cancel my social engagements one by one, and two days ago I had to cancel the South Wales part of my first caravan trip in 2015. The North Devon bit is still booked, but under review. Caravanning takes energy and a clear mind to organise the packing for departure, and it's a bit physical anyway all the way through. I just didn't feel up to it, quite apart from passing anything on to the persons I was going to meet up with.
So the last two weeks have really been something of a washout. I haven't by any means been at death's door, but I've felt weak and wobbly and capable of only a quick foray now and then to Budgens for some essential milk and food. I'm up to driving. That's dead easy. I don't see how I could face shopping, if I had to do it by bus.
And then, three days ago, just when I had some hopes of getting better, I was struck by a bad bout of diarrhoea. I don't think it had anything much to do with my 'cold'. I suspect it was the consequence of a lunchtime snack I put together that didn't agree with me. Suffice it to say that I've had three days of fluid loss and potential dehydration, which I've been very careful to counter with plenty of liquid and the minimum of solid food. It's not quite gone, but it's eased off. I had some plain toast an hour ago, and no trouble yet. That's wonderful. Diarrhoea can be exhausting.
I weighed myself when I awoke this morning. it was no great surprise that my weight had reduced by seven pounds since I last weighed myself three days previously (which was before the diarrhoea began). That's an awful lot in so short a time. It won't be body fat, or at least not much of it. It'll be mostly body water. I'm hoping now to stabilise that weight loss, and slow it down to a more reasonable rate. The tape measure revealed that I really have lost some girth, and I suppose the silver lining in all this is that I've now been 'purged' and, if I want it, I can build on this enforced slimming-down. But it's not a Dieting Method I'd recommend.
I'm hoping that from tomorrow I will gradually get back to normal. The caravan departure day has been put back, and (as I say) won't be at all, not if I'm honestly too wobbly. But I dearly would like to get away to breezy West Country shores. It would be a fine way to convalesce. I feel inclined to 'quarantine' myself for a bit yet. Not because I'm infectious, but to take pressure off myself and gain physical strength again. So no more Brighton engagements for now, and I may not look up my Devon friends as intended.
At this point, the elixir of walking a beach alone, just me and the sun and wind, is exactly what I want.