In solitary

FUCK.

So I have just got back from Thailand and China. There is much blog juice in this, mostly involving me going ooooh, it's all different.

While I was there I developed a filthy flu-type cough-thing, which:
- made the free day I had in China, and the day in Bangkok on the way back, quite shit.
- made me no fun at all to sit next to on any of the flights I caught, though I was taking magic pharmacist-advised strepsils to lessen the coughing fits.
- has been painful and miserable and generally rubbish and was probably going to be quite boring when I got around to complaining about it here.

So far, so dull. Crap, but dull.

Then just now I went to see the campus doctor, just to see if he recommended anything to help me sit out the cough.

So the thing is, I might have bird flu.

This is rather rattling and a bit scary, but not really terrifying. I haven't died yet, so I doubt I'm going to do so anytime soon, even if I do have it, which is pretty unlikely. However, it has the following ramifications:
- I would be the first person to bring bird flu to Mexico. Not really the kind of fame I was looking for. Funny, to my black sense of humour, but not funny if it actually happens.
- I'm not exactly in quarantine, but I probably shouldn't be socialising either. Which means not going to the office, working at home, and generally keeping myself to myself. Which means not catching up with the friends I've missed, not being in the office with the lovely Allison, not having lunch in the canteen, not hanging out in the evenings, probably not going to a big goodbye party on Friday... and generally being sad and lonely.
- However, I still have a shitload of work to do this week, and this doesn't excuse me from it. And there were lots of other chores and fun things I was going to do, but can't.
- Worst of all, I am under observation by the doctor. Under WHO rules, anyone who comes back from South East Asia with a filthy dirty cough like this has to be kept under observation, and if I get worse the authorities have to be notified. Which I'm sure isn't a trip to the circus at the best of times, but I am planning to go to Chicago to visit good friends in exactly a week's time. I really, really want to go, nevermind what will happen to the ticket. And there's no guarantees I'll be better by then even if it's just a regular ol' non-avian-type virus - I had a cough earlier in the year that lasted at least 3 weeks - and I'm sure he'll stop me going if I'm not.

So everything's probably going to be fine, but right now everything sucks in an absurdly melodramatic and shit way.

I had a massive weeping stress fit at Allison (by phone of course), and then phoned my boss and managed not to break down completely (again), but was still a madwoman. I really need to stop being mad and/or crying when I'm speaking to my boss. Then I resisted phoning any friends or parents and crying at them, mostly because it was afternoon in the UK and working hours, but also in the case of my parents because I didn't quite get round to mentioning I was going to China and it might all be a bit much to take in. Then I sat down to write this and am feeling slightly more calm. Slightly. On the other hand, it's well known for driving people mad, this solitary confinement lark. I must be sure to keep myself busy with plenty of activities. These shall include coughing, staring at a blank screen trying to work, complaining, coughing, weeping, staring wistfully out of the window, coughing, thinking bitterly about the things I could be doing, and coughing. Hooray.