Bloody Typical...

 It is one of those not so curious twists of my accursed fate that I should becom ill on the first day of my Winter month-long holiday.

I rarely take to my bed, but the last two days have seen me in serious stomach pain, freezing cold and with a 'right bastard behind the eyes'. All this topped off with no appetite and a Bristol Stool Rating which frankly went off the chart on the first day, including one 'memorable' session where there was a considerable amount of clean, dilute blood.

I went to bed all fine and dandy on Tuesday, having watched 'Sharpes Eagle' and then "WHAMMO" I awoke in the morning in the arena of the unwell, where I have remained ever since.

Whilst I have only moderate pain in the head and am now feeling generally warmer and livelier, the stomach cramps and simulation of the evacuation of Saigon are actually getting worse. So, reluctantly, I fear a trip to the physick may be in order if I am to see in 2024 and avoid the cold hand of death.

I have never spent so long alseep during daylight hours and let me tell you, it's playing merry hell with my wargaming libido.

Imagine if you will, a box containing  over 300 freshly painted miniatures, sitting in the conservatory, unopened... This is truly unheard of. Historically, it would take a direct hit from a 25lb HE round to even slow me down, but this bug or whatever it is, has me at it's not so tender mercy and I feel like I am dying.

Christmas decorations have remained unlit lest I associate them with illness, and I have read 80 pages of 'Clubland' by Pete Brown whilst commoded. 

I pray this is not my 'Last Christmas'...

Comments

Post a Comment

Leave your praise and vitriolic commentary here...

Popular posts from this blog

How, Over 40 Years Ago, A Guy Called Andy Changed My Life With 5 Words, And Other Reminiscences...

Image
 Of late I have been having long and vivid dreams wherein, I am often walking or travelling with people I have known, some living, some passed, talking over things we had done or said. I confess that it's been eerie but also very liberating. These coversations have been so real that I have awoken in the morning (more usually, half way through the night) and been confused at my surroundings.  Last night I was speaking with Dave Hoyles  - very much alive and kicking - of Q.T Models/Museum Miniatures. The only thing I have noticed is that is often been snowing heavily in these dreams. One of my latest dreams was of the late Ian Smith, another the comic book artist Paul Green - who, thankfully is still with us. This pattern began a few years ago when I had a similar experience with the recently deceased Pete 'Greblord' Armstrong. It was a very cathartic experience for me, as I had much which needed to be said. I may have written of this before, but this particular dream was dif
Read more

A Radioactive Wasteland? We Need Another Hero...

Image
Don't    I first attended the Sheffield 'Triples' show in I think 1982, and what a show it was. It could fill the Royal Victoria Hotel, a massive Victorian railway hotel, and was rammed to the rafters for two days with traders and attendees. It had a great painting competition (where, in 1984 I won the first of over 20 competitions, when such things were important to me personally) and a bring an buy which was always packed with good quality stuff for all tastes. There was a buzz that I only ever saw matched at Salute or Northern Militaire and a vibrant 'after show' culture of pub and curry crawls, quizzes and debauchery which, set many a teenage lad on the right track in life. Over the years the show went from strength to strength, finally having to move to a new venue at the EIS in the Don Valley after the loved and loathed Octagon Centre underwent renovations.  The EIS was not as popular as a venue, but what killed 'Triples' was when, following probably
Read more

Oh My, This Is A Long One...

Image
 The Stalingrad re-enactment continues here at Fackham Hall, in the shadow of the Dark Tower. Yesterday was particularly hellish with the first visitation of that agent of disorder and damnation, commonly known as The Plasterer. At 3PM, I found myself almost silent in my distress (a rare thing indeed, as many will atest) with what is left of the bedroom, coated with a layer of plaster because , you know, plasterers just can't work using dust sheets. Hopefully, if the gods deign to smile upon us, we will have this demon exorcised by close of play on Monday, whereby the other troublesome spirit, The Builder, will return to rip or hammer something else. If we are lucky we'll have everything sorted by the May Bank Holiday weekend. I confess that I've done little pertaining to gaming this week, as trying to work in this living hell is bad enough, but I have been thinking as I do, aboutthe hobby in general and reflecting on how far I've come in the hobby and indeed the busine
Read more