Just a quick hello to you lovely lot.
Have just got out of bed. Hadn't the strength for a shower. Just a lick and a promise. If any of my Granspals have had what I'm going through...all I can say is, I'm desperately sorry for you.
I have, over the years, spent a maximum of four days feeling so washed out that I couldn't face getting out of bed.
As I breathe the sounds emanating from my lungs resemble a squeaky barn door, a rumble of distant thunder or a bear in considerable distress.
I feel ABSOLUTELY ROTTEN.
I haven't eaten since yesterday morning. Have a bowl close at hand. Clammy one minute, shivering the next.
I am thinking of you. I do miss you. I hope that the Gransmeets are full of fun.
Must away! Take good care of yourselves. 