Bad pain night on Friday, which led to considerable analgesia intake. If I'd had any brain, I'd have taken it all gently, not gone to Browns (though meeting up with Tim and Kev was excellent), and certainly not eaten.
By 5pm it was obvious that lying down was the better part of valour.
Some hours of 'Fuck, I'm really not well' stupor ensued.
1.30am was the hour of torrential gastric emptying. Joy. No, I mean it, it was much needed, since I started to feel better almost immediately.
Today I did take it gently, went to see B & K and the kids, was moderate in my food intake, and am feeling vaguely human again.
That does mean, however, that I'm sorely behind on those things which I ought to have done. Tomorrow - assuming I'm well enough - I'll try to play catchup.
exhausted