The Holiday – Day 1

Suffering with labyrinthitis for two weeks had been no fun, and tied in with the start of the school holidays meant getting rest was not proving easy. The doctor had plied me with medication in order to try and ease the constant dizziness, which made me feel like I was either:

  1. On a tiny boat on a very rough sea suffering from sea-sickness
  2. Extremely drunk and unable to walk in a straight line feeling like I had done 10 tequila shots or
  3. Both of the above simultaneously

However holiday day had arrived, my son had gone on a paternal family holiday with his dad to celebrate a significant family birthday, so my husband and I had booked what we were classing as our long overdue honeymoon, something we had looked forward too for months on end.

Now that it had arrive and I had felt too ill all week to do anything more than stagger to the kitchen for a glass of water, to say I was feeling sorry for myself was an understatement.

Nothing had been completed, no packing had taken place, the animals still needed to go to the kennels, and we didn’t even have essentials such as sun-screen (my skin is so pale just five minutes in the sun has me glowing redder than an British post box). Luckily for me my husband had booked the day off work, something he wasn’t planning on doing, as we weren’t flying until the following day from an airport three hours drive away.

He immediately turned into soldier mode, utilizing the seven Ps perfectly, packing, organizing and chivvying me along as I lay there groaning at the effort from raising my head (I’m not too proud to say I am the worlds worst patient). Anyway before I knew it he had us packed and ready to leave.

“Why are we going now? We planned on driving down first thing” I asked

“Because you need a treat and to do it this way will be easier, trust me you can sleep in the car”

Grumpily I climbed into our car and we headed off down the motorway, music on, me dozing and trying to keep my head as still as possible. With seemingly impossible speed, we pulled up outside a glorious hotel right next to the airport. Whisking me to the reception area and depositing me on a sofa incase I fell over, my husband checked us into a luxury room, something which had me clapping my hands when I saw the size of the bed, it was as big as our bedroom back at home. I climbed into it straight away snuggling into the over-filled pillows and sighing in with pure satisfaction. My husband switched the TV on and I slipped into a delicious sleep to the sound of family guy in the background.

Making life just that little bit nicer for me when I felt unwell for our holiday, I simply have to say I’ve picked a good one!


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