Week 5 - description of the 'flu or similar - Andy

The distance stretched out ahead of him, endless. But still, he couldn't go back. To go back would be failure. He could only press on - the promise of the end of the road spurred him on.

 Before he begun this journey, he had planned for an eternity. It felt different, from safety. He hadn't contemplated the physical extremes he would go through. In the calculated calm of planning, he couldn't imagine the pain over every inch of his body.  He had put off leaving until the situation became unbearable, until the only thing worse than making this journey would be to  stay in place.

The first step was the hardest, leaving warmth and comfort, and venturing into a cold unfeeling world.

On and on, the journey went - he could barely remember a time before he started walking, and couldn't dare to hope for a day he would be able to rest.

Getting out of the bed to go to the kitchen for some Nurofen seemed like such a good idea.

Week 5 - description of the 'flu or similar - Laura

My mouth was dry like the Cork Gin, and my head hurt like I’d been drinking the stuff since going to bed the previous night.

My brain felt like a bruise that was being leaned on.

If my nose was the Port Tunnel, one of the bores was closed. As a result of that, coupled with decreased capacity lungs that cut short each inhalation, breathing was a test I was getting just a passing grade in.

Conversely, my muscles seemed to be breathing in pain all by themselves.

The crackling in my ears suggested a loose wire in my body’s speakers, or perhaps that I’d spent the night on a long haul flight.

I swallowed. The cold air was sharp, ripping the walls of my throat as it went down and reminding me of a mouthful of ice-cream swallowed too soon.

An involuntary cough woke the dragon that had until now been contained in my chest cavity, and its burning, fiery bark brought with it a different, but similarly arduous, pain on the way back up.

This ‘flu was on top of its game.