Round 1
Waking up Monday morning Dave didn't feel too good, but then he hadn't expected to. His pre-booked weekend back to Liverpool had not been anywhere near as relaxing when he was just going to visit an empty house. Jean being in China due to concerns over her mother's health, Dave had not got the recharge he needed.
In addition, last night his landlady had told him after one month of staying in his new place that she was putting up the rent. He thus informed her he would be looking for a newer new place. A very brief exchange, but still not one that aided his sleep.
On top of that, he had a bit of a cough.
Still, he dragged himself out of bed, got himself to work and played round with excel for a few hours. By home time the weariness was clearly starting to show.
"Are you alright, Dave?" asked John
"I think I might be getting a cold. Just hope its not swine flu."
"Let's hope. Go on, go home, get some rest, hope you feel better tomorrow."
On arriving back home, Dave collapsed into bed immediately.
Round 2.
'No,' thought Dave, 'stop it.'
Every time he was ill, the same old thing, his mind would hook onto one obscure thing and just loop it around in his head until he went insane. Today it was an excel sheet to fill out. In his dreamy state it would seem really important, but for some not quite known reason. The more he concentrated on it, the more his head would hurt, and it really messed up his sleep.
The worst part of this insanity was that he was always sane enough to know he was going insane.
'Argh, there is no excel sheet, just please let me sleep!!!'
When his morning alarm went off he called John to let him know he wouldn't be coming in. His cold had gotten worse.
"Do you think it might be swine flu?" asked John.
"I'm still hoping its not."
Dave drifted in and out of sleep for the next few hours. When awake, he found it difficult to move. Even switching his laptop on seemed like a massive chore. Surfing the net was hard work.
He was boiling up, but shivering. His head ached, as did everywhere else, his nose was blocked, his throat was sore. It wasn't until early afternoon that he finally found the strength to check his symptoms on the NHS symptom checker.
Swine flu.
'Cool.'
So he called NHS direct, who told him to call his GP, who told him to call a local pharmacy, who told him to call a local hospital. Boy was all that exhausting, with conflicting advise, some telling him just have paracetamol, but the result was that a pack of Tamiflu was now waiting for him just a 20 min walk away. He just needed to get someone to go pick them up for him.
Being in London, he'd hit a bit of a snag.
"Do you do a delivery service?" he had asked.
"No, sorry," replied the bubbly receptionist, "I guess if you really can't get anyone you can come pick them up yourself."
"..erm... isn't that completely against the guidlines...?"
"It should be OK, we have people pick up there own, they'll give you a mask to wear and everything. We're open till 9."
Dave went back to sleep. He drifted in and out once more, debating the two equally important matters of whether or not to attempt the journey to pick up his medicine and how best to fill in a nonexistant excel sheet. By around 6:30pm he finally dragged himself out of bed, the deciding factor being that he was running out of food and drink, so he would have to leave the house regardless.
The 20min walk took over an hour and it was excruitiatingly painful. It was not helped by the fact that although Dave looked like something straight out of Night of the Living Dead, people in London still wanted to walk into him, and he desperately did not want to pass it on to anyone else. If zombies ever do hit London, it's going to take alot less than 28days to wipe everyone out.
When Dave made it to the hospital, having successfully avoided touching anyone or anything and keeping his breathing and his coughing down to an absolute minimum, the reception was clearly not the one he had spoken to.
"Is the prescription for you?!?" she was far from pleased.
"Yes... sorry..." Dave whispered.
She quickly put on a mask and thrust one at Dave. Seriously, given the postion, do you really only put a mask on when the sickees come in? EVERYONE who picks up a prescription for someone has come into contact with the disease. Chances are, a few of the healthy ones are still carrying some germs.
Anywho, Dave was shown through to a Doctor who explained the drugs he had just killed himself to collect. She gave him a rather large list of common side effects, including most of the stuff he already had a few he didn't, such as vomiting. She told him all these things are normal, even if you get them continue with the treatment, two a day for five days.
'Hmmm...'
The walk home was worse that the walk there and he still had to buy supplies. He avoided Tesco due to its popularity and went instead for a quiet garage. He stocked up on juice, apples, tomotoes and paracetamol.
He would save the Tamiflu for next time.
Round 3
When his alarm went off he called John again and told him the good news. Now he had nothing to do until Monday and thats exactly what he did.
Nothing.
His symptoms were already starting to improve, which was good, but he was still very tired. He slept alot easier without the worry of restocking supplies however and he was happy knowing that at this rate tomorrow he would have only minor symptoms, Friday he would be better and Saturday he would be playing the Wii back in Liverpool.
He had this swine flu on the ropes.
Round 4.
'WTF?' he still felt as weary as he had yesterday.
'Argh.'
He slept another day away.
Round 5.
Dave was awake. He felt alot better, and after shaving and showering away a week of sleep he looked alot better too. He still had a cough, and that horrible "ill" taste in his mouth that just wouldn't go away, but the worse was clearly over. He had regained his strength with several hours to spare before his trip back to Liverpool for a fun packed relaxing weekend.
Dave's train left Euston station at approximately 9:07pm. Dave sat back and relaxed.
He was, of cause, not on it.
Although better, he was still contagious and although swine flu was not the big bad some stories made out, it had claimed 29 lives in the UK and Dave would not risk bumping into number 30 on his way back.
The germs in him would find him their final resting place.
KO
Dave 1 - 0 Swine Flu
