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There is an influenza epidemic in Australia at the moment.
I don't mean the common cold, which a lot of people call the 'flu. I mean the genuine article.
Margaret, alas, has it. But that's manageable - fluids, bed rest, paracetamol...
But this morning, through my sleepy fog, I heard "Lee...Lee...Lee..." coming plaintively from the bathroom. A quick exploration found a shaky, cold, clammy and somewhat dizzy Margaret on the floor. Achy and tingly, too. I got her back to bed, explored my options with an phone nurse and decided to take her to the emergency centre at the local hospital.
We got there about 8:30am, were seen by a nurse at 10:30am, seen by a doctor at about 2:30pm. I was starting to wish I had left her in bed. Overall she had picked up over the day. The doctor had one last query about whether she had meningitis. (She had a stiff neck and a headache but had spent most of the night in a recliner rocker to ease her coughing which probably did her neck no good and the headache? Well, she has the 'flu...) While I appreciate his desire to be thorough we would still be there if we hadn't said 'no' and we left with a promise that we would return if any symptoms of meningitis appeared.
Nothing quite stuffs your day as comprehensively as nine hours sitting in casualty.
---
Yes, she still has the 'flu.
No, she doesn't have meningitis. Or I don't think so.
No, I have no idea what was behind the morning dramas.
Yes, it did seem a lot longer than nine hours.
Yes, she is home.
Yes, I am going to bed.
...