The bad fortnight

A rough few days. Not dangerous, just relentlessly unpleasant, the kind of unwell where you cannot read and cannot sleep and cannot settle to anything.

Nausea at four in the morning is a specific kind of misery.

Reflux again. I slept propped up on three pillows and woke at two anyway. I have an appointment on Thursday and I am going to actually mention it this time rather than deciding it is not worth bothering anyone about.

Very tired. Not the kind of tired a nap fixes. I slept nine hours and woke feeling as though I had been awake all night.

Bread at four.