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Wildblood succumbs to les-flu

Pass the Day Nurse

Kate Wildblood

Sunday, 4 January 2009

Cough, splutter, sweat, sneeze, ache. Yes it’s that time of year again. The festiveness is over and the New Year is here. Complete with tissues, Day Nurse and a longing for the duvet. I was a cocky fool this Xmas thinking I’d outfoxed the annual bout of shivers and sniffles. But oh no. Come Jan the 2nd and there I was, aching and shaking and crying out for the missus.

It isn’t however a case of man-flu, the much-maligned strain of sickness that you fella's seem to succumb to with ease each and every other week of the winter. No I believe I maybe suffering from les-flu. A little like man-flu it comes complete with desire for chicken soup, the need for a small bell to beckon a nursing loved one and compulsion to regularly update one’s online ‘ill’ status but with les-flu has the added joy of multitasking. Yes us lasses maybe ill but someone has to wash up.

It’s also known as disco-flu. Never serious enough to keep one in the house and always seemingly to disappear under the influence of vodka, disco-flu is rampaging through the scene. Drag queens are cancelling, DJs are sweating (but not in the nice way) and clubbers are succumbing. Which adds to the tumbleweed effect in clubland come the first week of January. All that NYE kissing and greeting, dancing and prancing has done us proud, passed on enough germs to floor an army and rendered us danceless. Well at least until next weekend.

And so I wish all a speedy recovery. Remember your disco needs you, Beecham’s shareholders rely on you and antibiotics will never save you (just leave you in a state of pharmaceutical flux.) You’ll have to get out of the house soon enough, after all one can’t live on Eat Me dates alone. So do your duty, turn on the house music (I find dirty is best), pop on that Xmas top Santa got you, book a taxi and get into town. 2009 is here and I can feel a night out coming on. Now where’s that bell? Missus I need me some chicken soup.