The sickbed diaries XIII

After yesterday’s rather distressing episode I was rather hoping to wake up somewhat improved. Not at 3, not at 4 … not at any point. I woke for the last time with ginger laid on my stomach, purring, one paw extended and touching my left hand. The laying on of paws.
But there was no respite. The pain remained, and now whatever I do seems to cause me pain. Oh, and I cough. Ouch.
So, I decide it’s time for a walk, and trog down to the sea to shake the slough of despond from my hair. Oh. Hair. I managed to get it plaited a few days ago, but now it’s falling out, so I look a little like a scarecrow in a hat. Hmmph.
I walked. It taught me nothing.

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