At last!

Finally, I managed to take a walk. Only around five kilometres, but a walk, nevertheless. And it turns out that I was right to think I'd feel much better for the exercise. Just feeling muscles working hard again cheered me up.

I was also cheered up to discover the cause of my increasing malaise this week isn't anything sinister - or doesn't seem to be. After an unpleasant incident last night, during which I convinced myself that I had a recurrence of some sort, I investigated further. The culprit appears to be a non-functioning fridge. Because the fridge light was working (for some reason, I associate non-functioning fridge lights with non-functioning fridges instead of taking the logical approach that points out that the presence of one of these factors doesn't necessarily mean that the other is also true) and because my usual visits to the fridge involve no more than opening the door, grabbing something and closing the door again, I hadn't really been aware that the interior temperature of the container was approximately the same as the room temperature. Yes, I should have a fridge thermometer!

So, all week, I've been eating food that hasn't been chilled. Unsurprisingly, I've been feeling what my mother would have called "off-colour" for several days. I'm not sure what caused me to realise that something wasn't right - well, actually, I am sure, as the physical effects were not pleasant - but there was something about the way the yoghurt appeared to be festering in its pot and the smell of rotting fish that emerged from the brightly lit interior when I opened the fridge door that indicated all was not well...

A phone call to the manufacturer's service centre and the disposal of the contents of the fridge later, I do feel much better. Still fragile, but definitely better. So, though I still panic at every twinge, I'm beginning to learn to look for really obvious explanations that don't necessarily mean that my health is deteriorating!