I was ill last week. I am almost never properly ill (as opposed to whining and sniffling into work with some Lemsip in my bag). I did not enjoy it. I had taken some time off work to go to Cork with the children for mid-term and I was not pleased with the timing of my illness. Reluctantly I dragged myself to the doctor and paid â‚¬55 for a diagnosis and a course of antibiotics. I started straight away.
My father is a pharmacologist. He is against the reckless use of antibiotics. This was therefore my second ever course of antibiotics. They were quite miraculous. I was able to drive to Cork as planned. I picked the children up from school having told them that this would not be possible as I was too sick. They were pleased. Michael was unsurprised: “I told the teacher you were sick and we wouldn’t be able to go to Cork and I was sad. So, we all said a prayer for you to be better and now you are!”
Or, a retrospective prayer for the pharmacologists to be very clever and develop antibiotics that work??!