The thing about being stuck in bed for a couple of days - yes, it's flu, but it's mild and I hope to get up again tomorrow for a while - is that it gives you time to think. That's not necessarily a good thing, particularly when you don't feel well. I have spent most of today planning my funeral. Well, I needed to finalise my thoughts, so I suppose it's as good a time to do it as any other. The odd thing is that until my cancer, I wasn't a hypochondriac. Now, it seems, every tiny twinge, sniffle, cough or ache leads me to hear the tapping of bony fingers on the window and the swish of a scythe in the distance. I really must stop it because it's giving me nightmares!
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