Yesterday, late afternoon, I was presented with a solitary white and Yellow capsule. Christine had come up from Galloway and was sitting beside me in the room. The capsule was Tamiflu and its message was immediately clear: the Swine flu tests on the nurse Lisa must have proved positive. Let’s hope the amazing clean air-system they have installed sucked it out !


As I fell asleep last night the sound of the blower transformed into a speeding cross-channel ferry, and I was out on the highest deck alongside its monstrous funnel. The deck plates vibrated under my feet and the deep bass of the engines below reverberated in my chest. The strong wind streamed across my face and I had to hold tightly to the rails.


At 2 am I was woken by Marie to have my temperature checked, it had been up slightly at 11 pm, and they were being ultra cautious, regards the flu, but all was fine. I slept right through until Michael, the only male nurse, came in for the early morning infusion in my line. I didn’t feel like getting-up and snoozed for another half hour before a little voice in my head said: ‘come on, you’ve got to exercise. This is the only solid bit of peace and quiet you’ll get until bedtime.’

Christine had spent the night at a friend’s house and was in early to see me and eager to tell me of all the goings-on. She had brought her bicycle up with her in the back of the car and so, as I got hooked up to my lines and gradually got more sleepy, she cycled off to explore the area and potential launderettes. (Providing me with clean clothes daily is quite a task, having observed my sister doing it for 15 weeks over the summer for my stroke stricken mother).

When Christine came back she was laiden with newspapers, up-to-date map of Glasgow, and a novel, ready for a siege. I’m afraid I am not much company just now, as I withdraw more and more into my shell under this drug onslaught. There is a body here in this room but there’s not much of me in it; I am trying to be in another place.