Having felt decidedly off colour with a painful headache and a rumbling stomach throughout the day I dozed on the sofa watching the continuing news from Ukraine, relieved by Six Nations rugby matches between Scotland and France, and between England and Wales. I may have rested my eyes on occasion, which might explain the missing bits.
After my first day at school it was a place I enjoyed being. I therefore had to be feeling rather rough to say I was feeling unwell on a school day. When I claimed that I wasn’t well enough this meant I needed to go to bed and would be unable to eat pudding.
This would have been my mother’s diagnosis whenever I said I had a tummy ache – the small child’s catch all ailment description.
Now as an adult I realised this may have had something to do with bile, but it was not until this evening that I had ever looked it up. It seems a combination of headaches, abdominal pain and constipation, now regarded as obsolete. Just for the record I didn’t suffer from the latter; vomiting was very rare; and I don’t remember headaches. As a young mother from the middle of WW2 Mum had inherited a number of old wives’ tales from my grandmother, and she tended to persevere with them past their sell by dates. A recommended cure for bandy legs, for example, was a mustard bath.
I was rather off my food until this evening when Jackie produced small portions of oven fish, chips, and peas, with which I drank water.