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it’s an ill wind (that blows nobody any good)

I’m typing this in bed due to being infected by Covid-19 at some point over the last two weeks: I tested positive very late on the 16th February.

I feel reasonably lucky as the impact has been devasting on my insulin requirements, but I have food booked via my local supermarket, the internet at my fingertips and feel snug as Storm Franklin rages outside my window. I seem to have a coping mechanism working for the insulin requirements and am no longer swinging from high to low. And the power is still up, go PowerGen.

Actually, Franklin may be why I’m typing this – the noise is horrendous and while I am definitely achy, coughy and headachy, I’m not actually ill enough to be out for the count while my subconcious is going “threat”. Why is it prioritising the wind outside to me getting better? Doesn’t my subconcious trust that I wouldn’t subject any part of me to unnecessary risk.

Oh, that’s right, I am in this position as I managed to pick up Covid from somewhere: point taken.

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