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May. 13th, 2008 06:30 pm
At lunch time, on my way back from my therapist, I stopped at a take-away in Waterlooville for a Doner kebab, which on reflection was a mistake as I'd been feeling a touch on the woozy side all morning. I think the feeling was fading by then so I thought I'd be OK.
What I hadn't bargained for was that the Doner tasted decidedly dodgy. I still finished it, but had a gippy stomach from that moment onwards. I also got that dryness in the back of my throat, and began to hope I wasn't going down with a bastard cold or fucking flu. (I had no idea who the hell I could have caught a cold or flu from, especially in this heatwave.) Eventually, at 3.10 - just after I arrived home and prepared to relax ahead of my driving lesson - I had to use the white telephone, but only a tiny bit.
When Peter arrived he drove us down to the bottom of our street to turn round - and arrived in the rugby club car park. That was deserted (though we got the odd group of kids and the odd dog-walker arriving during the time) so we stayed there instead of going back to the beach car park.
Around 5.20, 85 minutes into my driving lesson, I felt that unmistakable vile feeling in my mouth and asked Peter if I could get out to breathe for two minutes. For a little while I just gobbed and gobbed and didn't think it was going to come, then, suddenly, WALLOP. A triple whammy. In a bush. Even tasted the dodgy chilli sauce the last time (and that appears to be the real source of my dry throat).
Peter asked if I wanted to call it a day, but I was fine to carry on. My driving actually improved after I'd shed the burden. I've just about got the hang of starting and stopping now and my gear changing and push pull steering are getting there, but I still need to work on turning - I'm trying to turn while staying out of the marked parking spaces, but I'm still veering into them a lot.
Got to go for a lie down.
What I hadn't bargained for was that the Doner tasted decidedly dodgy. I still finished it, but had a gippy stomach from that moment onwards. I also got that dryness in the back of my throat, and began to hope I wasn't going down with a bastard cold or fucking flu. (I had no idea who the hell I could have caught a cold or flu from, especially in this heatwave.) Eventually, at 3.10 - just after I arrived home and prepared to relax ahead of my driving lesson - I had to use the white telephone, but only a tiny bit.
When Peter arrived he drove us down to the bottom of our street to turn round - and arrived in the rugby club car park. That was deserted (though we got the odd group of kids and the odd dog-walker arriving during the time) so we stayed there instead of going back to the beach car park.
Around 5.20, 85 minutes into my driving lesson, I felt that unmistakable vile feeling in my mouth and asked Peter if I could get out to breathe for two minutes. For a little while I just gobbed and gobbed and didn't think it was going to come, then, suddenly, WALLOP. A triple whammy. In a bush. Even tasted the dodgy chilli sauce the last time (and that appears to be the real source of my dry throat).
Peter asked if I wanted to call it a day, but I was fine to carry on. My driving actually improved after I'd shed the burden. I've just about got the hang of starting and stopping now and my gear changing and push pull steering are getting there, but I still need to work on turning - I'm trying to turn while staying out of the marked parking spaces, but I'm still veering into them a lot.
Got to go for a lie down.
