Fed up with being fed up

I really do wish that I had something interesting and appealing to write about. Unfortunately, I do not. The persistent cough and lethargy are ruining my days (and most nights) and not for the first time, they are being ably assisted by the weather.

You know that feeling, too hot one minute, too cold the next? That seems to be my current curse, as I trudge around with Ollie, shedding my top coat, only to scrabble to put it back on again, minutes later. The April weather is running true to form. Heavy rains followed by hot sun, blue skies followed by ominous clouds. Those clouds seem to be in pursuit of me, as I try to exit the gate at Hoe Rough, before the next downpour catches me out. Ten minutes later, my coat wet from the rain, I am baking in the sudden heat of a warm afternoon, unable to guess what to wear, and when not to wear it.

The heavy showers have brought the mud back to life too. Just as it had started to dry, it is reinvigorated in its slickness, deep pools sucking at the uncomfortably warm boots that I still have to wear, despite the sunshine. Frequent pauses are necessary too, to facilitate nose-blowing, endure fits of sneezing, or just to cough and splutter whilst standing still. Back home, there is scant relief. The same coughing and sneezing dominates the lighter evenings. More tablets, more cough medicine, and little taste in the food from our meal. I can hardly be bothered to concentrate on the TV, and there are a few good dramas on at the moment. Similarly, the computer has little appeal, as it is hard to type with tissues in your hand, and constantly pausing to cough.

The thought of going to bed later fills me with the dread of knowing that I will no doubt be awake in the early hours, sleep banished by coughing or choking, unable to get the temperature right as well. Too hot under the duvet, too cold in the night air outside of the covers. It is making me fed up.

And I am a bit fed up with being fed up, as my title suggests.


48 thoughts on “Fed up with being fed up

  1. Fed up with being fed up? Well, yes. Understandably so. The whole thing sounds utterly miserable – and so it is.

    My husband is currently in bed with something that sounds remarkably similar. He picked it up when we were away last week. Frankly, I’d rather he’d have left it where it was because now I know it’s only a matter of time…

    I ought to have more sympathy. I know it. After all, he lost his last school holiday to a viral illness. (He’s a teacher). But since my health isn’t great in the first place and these things always hit me harder than they hit him, I’m facing the coming days with a feeling of dread (and fanatically washing my hands in the hope of avoiding what is probably inevitable). Somehow, it feels all the harder to face when, after 6 months of poorer than usual health, I have finally started to feel a bit better…

    Ho hum. Do hope you feel better soon! And that the sun comes out and stays out for a while!


    1. I sincerely hope that you do not catch whatever this is from your husband, Ros. It certainly seems to drag on. Even when you think it has reached its end, it then comes back with a vengeance. I suppose that it is all part of getting older, being less resistant to viruses and bugs, but I don’t like it!
      Best wishes, Pete.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Do take care, Pete. I hate these sort of illnesses because they affect everything you do but not to the point where you feel you shouldn’t be doing anything. And they just seem to drag on and on and make everything a big effort. I’m with you on the weather front. I keep putting off a few things in the garden until the weather is more settled, but at the rate we’re going, that day might never come… I hope the cold gets fed up too and decides to live you for greener pastures…


  3. Hope you are feeling better now Pete. The weather is really hot here, woke up this morning feeling sluggish, with a hoarse voice to boot so I went back to bed when my son left for work.


  4. I’m so sorry you are not feeling well. The weather here has been awful. The mud is, as you say, boot-suckingly unforgiving. The sky has been so grey Mom is about to stick her head in a gas oven. Paws crossed that you feel better soon and that the sun comes out and stays out! Woof!


    1. Cheers, Eddy. I was thinking that last week, and it is not going anywhere. Must be one of the drawbacks of getting older, it’s harder to shake things off.
      Best wishes, Pete.


  5. And I thought the Hoe had it rough! You’re really having a hard time of it, Pete!

    With apologies to B. J. Thomas, since raindrops keep falling on your head…

    You should do some talking to the sun, and tell him you don’t like the way he gets things done. Sleeping on the job! Those raindrops keep falling on your head—they just keep falling!

    But there’s one thing you should know. The blues those raindrops send to meet you won’t defeat you, and it won’t be long till happiness steps up to greet you!

    Raindrops keep falling on your head, but that doesn’t mean your eyes will soon be turning red. Crying’s not for you, because you’re never gonna stop the rain by complaining. So there’s no use in worrying!

    I know it’s a tough row to hoe, Pete, but sooner or later you’ll feel better. And that will make your rainy days brighter!


    1. Sorry you’re not feeling well Pete.

      I always sprinkle Olbas oil on my clothes and drink a lot of lemon tea with honey (proper lemons). Then wrap myself in a duvet like the Mummy meets the Michelin Man, with a hot water bottle nestled against my back. With a couple of books to read (if I can) to distract me and then I fester until it goes. (I know conjures up a lovely vision hahaha).

      Take care and don’t sneeze on the cat! 📚🍋☕🐈


  6. I’m so sorry you’re feeling so low Pete. I’ve always found early spring to be difficult with the weather changes, colds, allergies, etc… Here in Massachusetts we’ve had days in the 60s followed by plunging temps into the teens. We’ve even had a couple of snowstorms including one on the first day of spring. Hang in there. Better days are just around the corner! 🙂



      1. “Fed up with being fed up” is the burden of my song, too. But just look at all the love coming your way! That’s medicine.
        And your literary talent for new minting daily life, making humdrum shine again.
        I hope Ollie’s tail is curled despite your illness. Xx


        1. The kind words of the blogging community are indeed better than Beecham’s Cold and Flu tablets. Ollie has a curled tail, one of the few times this year that it has not been him that had problems.
          That Autism video was powerful stuff, and I stayed to the end. Just as well, or I would not have seen you walk past. (It looked like Whiteley’s, is that where it was filmed?)
          Always a pleasure to see you here.
          Very best wishes, Pete. xx


          1. Yes, eagle-eyed Londoner, it was Whiteleys! A sad relic (Whiteleys, I mean, not me) of its glory days. I was living nearby off Ladbroke Grove (before its millionairisation of course) when it was reopened as an upmarket, architecturally elegant shopping mall. Now it has gone the way of all such soul-sucking places and looks half closed down.


          2. My mother and I lived in St Marks Road, between Oxford and Cambridge Gardens, near the infamous Ruston Mews. The day we moved in, the recalcitrant removal men asked my mother why two women (I was seventeen) had moved to the worst area for mugging in London……They were right, of course. But I miss Portobello, and Notting Hill, and Holland Park….X


          3. St Mark’s Road! Even closer then, as that is where the Ambulance Station is situated, under the flyover. I have been to Ruston Mews many times, as it ran along the back of our yard and car park. This small world seems even smaller now…x


  7. Hello there again my friend, I do hope your colds get better without delay… I posted a blog on there just a bit ago, after which I had to go outside and shovel the heavy snow again… I hope you pop on over to see and gives you a tad light at the end of your cold, hot, rainy, muddy, spring across the pond.. Take good care of yourself and feel better soon…



  8. And I can relate, Pete. I feel sorry for you. I have tissues right here, a trash can next to me, cough drops in my pocket and teary eyes trying to see what I’m typing. I thank goodness I don’t have your vertigo as well!
    Here’s to you, friend!!


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