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Bored Sick


I've been at home since Monday, when my body simply refused its normal duties to get up at the sound of Mrs.B's alarm (I mean the sound of her alarm clock of course). For once, I haven't been sneezing the tiles off the roof, it's just that I feel like a wet mop. I couldn't hit a dent in a wet newspaper at the moment.

The doctor said I've got a throat infection, which really surprised me. Normally this means I can hardly breathe, won't be able to eat for at least three days and have to invent a new coctail of drugs to get enough relieve from the pain to allow me to sleep.

The first two days I've been sleeping a lot, but now I've reached the stage where my mind says 'ok, let's get back to business', but my body still isn't up to shape by a mile. I actually feel the pain in my upper arms as I type this. When I climb up the stairs, snails agressively sound their horn and overtake me while waving their middle finger at me (yes, we have snails with middle fingers in this house).

So there's nothing else to do besides feeling immensely bored and watch daytime television. On a positive note: I've infected Mrs.B so she had to stay at home today too. Haha! Well, that would be funny if it didn't mean that I now have to share the remote and don't have the house to myself any more. I hate to have people around me when I'm ill. Just leave me to rot in peace, thank you very much.



Clogged up nose – check

Blocked ears – check

Sinuses under high pressure – check

Stinging headaches waking me up at night – check

Aching joints making me climb up stairs like an arthritic old goose - check

Coughing like a fifty year old Russian diesel engine somewhere in the Siberian tundra

Check and double check


Yep, it's definitely autumn...

Drugged Out


Next Monday I’m leaving for the ‘We’ll-Be-Democratic-When-We-Feel-Like-It’ Republic of Congo. So what better time to get a pneumonia, or a severe cold? However, it could also be a life-threatening case of allergy. I really can’t tell: I’ve got a dry throat, runny eyes and a runny nose, which all indicates to an allergy. But this morning I got up with the cough of coughs. With a cough like this, I should become a chain-smoker. It would be a shame to have lungs like these without ever having smoked.

Between opening my eyes and making my lunch, I sounded like a Russian Trans-Siberian diesel train that missed out on its yearly maintenance and overhaul for the last 40 years. Then it got somewhat better, in that I could breathe for three minutes at a time in between these retching spasms. People on the bus looked at me.

So when I arrived in Brussels’ Central station, I dove into the nearest pharmacy and bought me a nice big bottle of coughing syrup. At work, I carefully read the prescription, to find out what the absolute maximum dose was before actually falling into a coma and dying. It said: ‘an adult person should take no more than 3 to 4 doses per day of 15 ml.’

After the first dose of 22ml I felt pretty Ok. Lo’ and behold: it worked. Not that the coughing stopped outright, but I was able to work.

An hour later my coworker started to throw angry looks at me, so I took another dose.

Yet another hour later, I felt it was time for a third dose. I started to note a happy, rosy mood coming over me. Work was suddenly less unpleasant (I had been checking accountancy records all morning).

After the fourth dose, I started to feel groovy, man. You know, when you’re going for stuff and shit and then you go like ‘whaaoow dude’ and everyone’s like totally hip man?

My productivity started to suffer after the fifth sip of syrup. Luckily, it was dinner time and my lunch absorbed some of the drugs. But then the cold turkey hit me. I needed another shot.

By the end of the afternoon, my cough wasn’t improving anymore, but I got a hell of a headache on top. I thought about taking an aspirin, but one addiction a day is quite enough.


I've been ill for a week now, and I'm more than fed up with it. I can live with the constant pressure on my eardrums and those snot glaciers in my nostrils. What's bugging me the most is that I can't taste anything any more. Everything tastes more or less the same. So when it's time to eat, I don't eat much and then a short while later I'm hungry again.

The doctor prescribed me a nice list of pills. Just one question though: why are people with a sore throat made to swallow pills the size of one of the balls of the Atomium? My pain killers are the size of footballs, my antibiotics are the size of rubber dingies and best of all, the pills against my sore throat would make a blue whale choke.

I promise my next post will not contain the word 'snot'.

It's Buy-Buy-Buy On The Snot Exchange

Today I went to the doctor again, and it doesn't look as if I'm going to Africa the day after tomorrow, as I was supposed to. So I canceled my ticket and I'm looking forward to staying indoors and decaying in terminal boredom for the next five days.

Well, it gives me a bit of time to finish the 'new' (I've been at it for four months now) lay-out for this site.

Good news though for those of you who lost a lot of money on the stock exchange these last couple of months. I'd suggest you buy Kleenex shares. Unexpectedly, their production has know an exponential growth. Analysts say that their shares will continue to soar until Saturday at least, but then their may be a steep decline.

Unless Wolf brings back another disease from the childminder's.

One Of Those Days

'Wolf's has had a double ear infection for weeks now. I'm lucky he didn't pass it on to me'

The moment I had formed that thought into my head, the virusses clambered into their Stuka divebombers and scrambled into the air. So as of yesterday night, my head feels like it's going to explode and release a giant tsunami of puss, slime and snot.

While I remained in bed and perfected feeling sorry for myself, Mrs.B went to work. Two hours later, she was back.

The police had closed the office, arrested her bosses and sealed of the place. No-one is to enter. The investigating magistrate wouldn't give anymore information, apart from the fact that he wouldn't interrogate my wife because she's only been working for this office since the beginning of the year.

Anyway, it's very unclear now if she's without a job or not, and if she will be paid for the last couple of weeks or not.

And I thought I had a bad headache before I heard that news.

Virus Alert

We've had a fun couple of days, here at the Centre for the Development of Humongously Infectious Children's Epidemics. Wolf was a little bit ill, in the sense that rivers of yellow muck were squirting out of his ears. As if a double ear infection wasn't enough, he topped it of with a nice little bronchitis.

Dinner Disaster

We had some friends over for dinner yesterday. They were perfect company, so the title is not a reference to their conduct. As usual, it was our family that provided the disasters. Although I must say that three out of the six people we invited did call up to say they couldn’t make it. So much for our popularity.

It started with baby Wolf, who kept us awake all Thursday night, crying and wailing every half hour or so. We thought he was teething, a second tooth is popping through his gums. But the next day we found he had a high fever – 40.2°C which is 800°F if my calculations are correct (I never was strong at maths). In any case, it was severe and we took him to the baby repair shop. After much frolicking with needles and tubes, the doctor got enough blood out of him to determine that he had a whopper of an infection on both ears.

This medical emergency had taken us a lot of valuable time that we desperately needed to clean that dump we live in. So on Saturday we both worked hard to get rid of the elephant dung underneath the sofa and the ketchup stains on the ceiling next to the bats.

Then, Mrs.B started to feel a bit sniffy. And during the evening this progressed into a full blown fever with coughing and moaning and acute demands for blankets, medicines and attention. That night, she didn’t sleep at all and produced more wailing than a bay full of humpback whales singing the blues. Luckily, Wolf had somewhat recovered and he slept fine.

So on Sunday, our guests got greeted by the Mummy of Nefertiti without make-up. Mrs.B made it through the hors-d’œuvres, but at dinner, everything went haywire. Our guests were enjoying the excellent shrimp-omelette-tartelettes followed by a wonderful and very tasty Osso Bucco, when their appetites got hammered under the carpet. Mrs.B suddenly started to go very red and very hot – for once I’d gone easy on the spicy paprika so it wasn’t my fault – and then very pale. While everyone was feasting on slices of veal, she had a thermometer in her mouth. She saw her temperature rise to an alarming 38.4°C, when suddenly Wolf exploded!

There is no other word for it, he wasn’t just vomiting. An enormous spout of orange-yellow blubber blasted from his mouth, while two smaller jets of the same slimy liquid squirted through both his nostrils. It was like watching the space shuttle take off, with one main booster roaring and two main engines at full go. It was a rocket puke! Luckily we have a big table, or the guy sitting at the other end would have been blown through the window.

Several towels later, the flood was under control. We created an emergency centre to clean the little guy and to redecorate the room. Mrs.B was so impressed by it all that she spontaneously forgot to be ill – not for long though.

For some reason, our guests weren’t hungry anymore after all this. Which was excellent, because it meant more food for me.

Corporate Slave

I’ve been at home all week because little green men that nobody sees or hears but me landed their flying wok pan (flying saucers are so passé) in our garden and invaded my body last Sunday. They started installing some mysterious spying devices in my throat, using pikes, hack-saws and coarse sanding paper. I barely slept that night, as you do when aliens take over your body. Mrs Bart claims that I snored, but it was really the noise of their power tools.

Why doesn’t anybody believe me?

The doctor looked into my ears and nose and mouth and said it is an infection. I have to stay in bed all week. I almost followed his advice yesterday, dividing my time between the computer and the TV. But today I slightly adapted the resting-schedule to go to a job event in the congress centre nearby. It was interesting, because there were only big companies and no NGOs or government services (or not that many anyway) and I got to talk with a number of people that gave me a better idea about what kind of job I could do if I don’t find work soon as a certified world-saver. Besides, pay-rates are way better at the dark side of the economy. I should start finding me some money instead of foolishly handing it out to starving children in Africa and stuff.

And if things don’t work out that well I can always start a Dilbert-like comic.

Virus Swapping

Marriage is all about caring for each other. So last week, when my wife had the flue, I cared for her. I brought her tea and sandwiches, I went to the pharmacist’s for drugs, I gave her healing kisses and I let her take naps with her head on my lap.

Marriage is also about sharing. So she shared her viruses or bacteria with me.

Marriage has good days and bad days. So today I have a bad day, because I’ve got the flue.


This morning I woke up because someone was pounding with a hammer between my eyes. My eyes themselves felt as if someone was pumping fluid into them to blow them up. My sinuses were reaching their bursting-points too. And someone was inflating balloons in my ears. To top it all off, I got a mild cough and enough snot to supply a medium-sized metropolis. So I ate aspirins for breakfast which helped a lot and gives me a false sense of healing. Because from the moment I try to move an arm or a leg my muscles feel like a colony of vampires sucked the life out of them.

But the worst part is having to watch crappy TV-programmes all afternoon. I hate being ill, I can’t stand the boredom.

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