...I woke up and, before I moved, I knew it: I'd got flu. Proper flu. An attempt to roll over into a more comfortable position confirmed it - unveiled all the latent aches, pains, discomfort and downright dis-ease which had been waiting to reveal itself to my conscious person.
I'd been out with friends the previous night, to see a band play. A fantastic and rather riotous evening in full, clear recall to this day, for I was stone cold sober, and was to remain so for years. On my late-night walk to the bus stop I can remember feeling a little cold and shivery, but nothing more than minor discomfort.
Now, on waking, it must have been a Friday morning, since I was due to go and see my mother for the weekend, later that day.
I knew I wasn't well enough to go anywhere (in the event, my health kept me a virtual prisoner, in solitary confinement at that, for almost two weeks). I made two phone calls: one to my workplace to inform them that I wouldn't be going in; the other to my mother to inform her that I wouldn't be able to make it over, and that I was really sorry about it, but there was nothing I could do.
I wished her a happy 60th birthday.