Sunday 5th April

As you know I had a day off on Tuesday in order to try and shake off my cold.  And I thought I had, or at least broken the back of it.  I felt quite a bit better on Wednesday morning, and on Thursday too.  I travelled down to Walton in the evening and I started feeling wretched.  As occasionally happens when my resistance is low I had an attack of the herpes virus.  Ever since childhood I have suffered, as did my mother before me, with cold sores.  Over the years I have learnt to recognize the signals, that itchy tingle, like tiny pinpricks on the delicate skin around your lips and nose.  This is accompanied by such a low feeling, as if you’ve been given a good kicking and really do not want to get up off the ground.

I am never sure if the low resistance and feeling sorry for oneself means the virus spies a chance and attacks you, or if it is all caused by the virus itself which is sitting there patiently year after year just watching and waiting to have its day in the sun, or actually on your face.

I try to never travel anywhere without Zovirax in my possession, and early application does often help.  But on Thursday, despite liberally daubing my upper lip and under my nose with the magic medicine the wretched cold-sores erupted and kept on itching and tingling all day on Friday and into Saturday too.  If you haven’t suffered with cold sores you will not know just how debilitating it can be.  Your whole well-being is affected, you feel tired and emotional and upset and weary and the worst thing is that you know that you will just have to go the course, and it will be a few days before they start to clear up and you feel better.  And I still have the runny nose and sore throat too.