Through it all,not a single sneeze, n'er a snuffle ,not one runny-nosed tissue thrown down the back of the headboard. No but by crikey a virulent cough to beat the band.I coughed so much and so hard last night that they think I may have pnemonia or a collapsed lung -or both.Hence the x-ray.A vast epic cacophany of a cough, if it were music it would be wagner,mighty and intimidating, it comes in night long bouts that make you wonder if you have an ounce of air, or cough,or energy left in your pathetic little frame.The kind of cough that doubles-up your legs, smashes your ribs with hammers and threatens to break you in two,leaving you shipwrecked and broken on the distant shore of your bed,thrown there as flotsam by the mighty epic sea of the swine flu,and there you sweat barely daring,barely able ,to breathe for fear of the inevitability of the next violent wave.
I was thinking of stuff written on headstones and the only one I really don't like is the 'Only sleeping' one.Feckin hell.! Only sleeping? WTF is that all about.Every time I see that in a graveyard I quicken me pace and keep an eye out over me shoulder.What if the poor fucker wakes up!
Iwas thinking of something fairly conventional for my headstone and even maybe a little poetic so that people would be drawn into it ,and then, written in really small print so they have to lean right in squinting to read it
'You, yes, YOU! I'm keeping my eye on you!
That should put the wind up them!