Politely turning down offers is not an option. I can’t look after the kids, I can’t do anything. My chest is rattling and my skin oozing sweat, my legs weak and unreliable. I don’t even feel like writing. Speaking hurts. Doctor saw me within hours, out of hours, efficient and kind. Pneumonia, he says, not flu. I’ve been cared for all weekend. I have been looked after. It feels good, when everything else hurts. The best thing about being ill is that you can’t help but be helpe

My body is fighting a virus. My joints ache, my head hurts. Through the night I couldn’t sleep for shivering, my teeth chattered, despite a hot water bottle. I fell asleep and woke in the night to peel off my pyjamas, soaked in sweat. I wake up so grateful that the kids are staying with Granny and Granda. I don’t know how I’ll get out of bed, but I do. I count the hours between doses of paracetamol and ibuprofen, drink water, grab a sleep when she’s napping. The thing is, wha