Wednesday 18th March

I get them every year, but you can never tell when.  It starts with me feeling down, quite inexplicably miserable.  You cannot explain it, everything seems to annoy you, and you are incredibly tired all the time.  Even sleep brings little relief, as you keep waking up feeling feverish. Then after two or three days of this misery – for that is the only word to describe it you get that old familiar and sickening tingle on your lips and like a sucker blow you know that uninvited guest, the cold sore, has come to stay.

And I never guess.  It always takes me by surprise, creeping up and catching me unawares.  I can’t remember when I first got them because as long as I can remember I have been afflicted by this nasty little virus, which lies dormant for months then suddenly erupts when you least expect it.  Zovirax does eventually deal with it, but it takes a few days of application – and they sell it such tiny little tubes that you almost always run out before the cold sore slinks away, only to lie there waiting for its chance to blossom like some tropical plant that needs a certain rainfall and temperature to burst into bloom.  The thing which really puzzles me is this.  Am I miserable the few days before the cold sore erupts because the virus is already working on me; like an iceberg only the tip is visible?  Or does the cold sore virus seize the moment when for whatever other reason I am below par to attack.  It must be when my immune system is slightly lowered, but is that as a result of or simply a consequence of the virus itself?  Whatever.  I am suffering.  But at least I know why I was miserable these last few days.  Or do I?