C125 125

I wake up in bed, tucked in nice and cleanly with a nightdress on and a much clearer head; I feel less unwell yet still fragile and bruised with a lingering temperature. That cotton wool head is not as severe, and my throat no longer feels like razor blades are lodged in the passage. I think it must have been a virus and last night it hit its peak with a little help from a New York thunderstorm