Recuperating

As of you who know me on Facebook or in real life will know by now, I am currently in recovery and recuperation mode after a bout of probable viral gastroenteritis on the weekend. Fi and her mum got it first, on Friday (we thought Charlotte had it too, but I have my doubts now since she seemed to only have one chuck and was thereafter fine). After feeling no more than unsettled on Friday, I got my dose on Saturday, eventually dehydrating to the point that I wound up in the ED on a saline drip. I have never been in that state before (not really able to move, on the verge of delirious); it was an interesting (if quite unpleasant) lesson in illness management (Fi and her mum handled their bouts a bit better than I did, not requiring hospital treatment). The drip was magic though, and I went home after three hours reasonably physically recovered, if still somewhat wobbly. Sunday I had a stomach ache from all the unusual exertions.

I'm told from those who have been there it can take anything from a few days to a few weeks to get back to normal. I haven't felt properly hungry or thirsty since Thursday (or had a proper meal for that matter), and have to force myself to eat and drink, since whatever I do partake leaves me feeling slightly nauseous and unsettled still. It is an odd space to be in. I am smelling food and liking the smell (i.e. I'm not put off by it), but have no desire to eat at all.

I also have very little spare energy due to the lack of eating properly. In a bid to avoid cabin fever and withdrawal (plus because I don't like to let my teams down if I can avoid it), I got out for some exercise last night (ultimate frisbee and indoor netball). It was hard, and I played nowhere near normal, let alone my best, but I felt a bit better for it. I also have a newfound understanding and respect for the All Black team that lost the 1995 World Cup Final*.

Today though was pretty much the same as yesterday and Sunday, albeit minus the stomach ache. I did manage instant noodles and a bread roll for tea tonight though, so slow progress is being made toward normality.



*For those who don't know the story, the team was collectively hit by a bout of food poisoning two days before the final (the same match loosely featured in the recent film Invictus (wiki)), which no doubt had a significant impact on their perfomance in the game. Nevertheless the game had to go to extra time before it was decided. A lot of NZ rugby fans are still bitter about it, and while never proven, there are allegations the poisoning was a deliberate conspiracy by the host nation (who happened to be the opposition team in the final). I think this game is well overdue for reframing in the collective NZ rugby psyche. Yes we lost, but we should look at it as a magnificent and honourable defeat rather than something that was stolen from us. Yes we might have won had the team not been weakened, but even in that state, we still held the opposition to a full time draw, with the game won in extra time by an individual act of brilliance. Conspiracy or not, I don't think there is any shame in it, and after fifteen years we can probably lose the chip from the shoulder about it...