HEALTH UPDATE: Germ Season!

Photo by cottonbro studio

It's official. I have Rachel's germs. My poor wife has heroically struggled through a lengthy spell of serious lurgy, whereas I caved on Friday with a bout of 'man flu'.

While Rachel has tried to carry on as normal as much as possible, I pulled on my dressing gown and curled up in front of the television at the first sign of sniffles and a sore throat.

I'd felt achy in my joints all week, but the cold truly manifested itself on Thursday night and into the following day.

My nose was still a bit odd yesterday and my throat scratchy, but generally it all felt as though I was on the mend.

Earlier in the week, I made it to the gym solo (for the first time, Rachel was outside in the car), but wasn't up for a second workout during the subsequent days. 

Also at the start of this week, I had an epic - and very thorough - two-hour eye test at my usual opticians, with the end result being the revelation that my prescription hasn't changed enough to warrant a new pair of glasses. This was a welcome outcome in this time of tightening belts and increasing costs.

However, 'cos of the bug (even though it was quite mild), my reading plans were scuppered (the old concentration issues were magnified) and I ended up watching a lot of Star Trek: Voyager reruns instead.

Last night was spent in the company of the new season of Strictly Come Dancing and I thought I was on the mend, but when I was awoken by Alice this morning - wanting her breakfast and a wee in the garden - I realised the cold wasn't going anywhere in a hurry.

Today, I ache from head from toe, have a bunged up nose, very sore throat and watery eyes. Seems like the germs have arrived in earnest now.

THROWBACK THURSDAY: Sic Itur Ad Astra

The Star Trek: Voyager episode One Small Step features a discussion of childhood dreams and ambitions.

Whenever I watch this, it strikes a particular chord with me as, at about the age that Chakotay decided he wanted to be a palaeontologist and Seven Of Nine was dreaming of becoming a ballerina, the only thing I wanted to be was an astronaut.

It wasn't even Star Trek (The Original Series) or other sci-fi shows of that era (early '70s) that drove this dream but simply the fact that I was growing up in age when men were still walking on the Moon and the "space race" was a vibrant and exciting part of everyday life.

Sadly, I also remember when how that dream got mothballed.

I was reading an article in an annual (either Star Trek or Doctor Who, and I'm leaning towards the latter) about the reality of space travel and I came across a paragraph that pointed out that if your craft re-entered the atmosphere at the wrong angle you'd burn up (I already had a childhood phobia about fire from being freaked out by The Amazing Mr Blunden as a six-year-old) and so that was it. Dream shattered. Astronaut ambitions shelved.

I wonder how different my life would be if, at that impressionable age, I hadn't read that article in an old annual and had instead pursued my space-travelling dreams through later life, studied the sciences at school (heck, any studying would have been an improvement), gone off to university at 18, taken a job in the aerospace industry or become a scientist or a pilot...

Talking of old annuals, as we were, another "freaky" story revolved around a pair that I picked up at a summer fête at the old Pembury Hospital (I think one might have been a Victor annual, but I can't remember the other, it might even have been a Doctor Who one).

One of favourite annuals as a kid
- but nothing to do with these anecdotes

What I do recall is that the two annuals were from different years and I didn't look inside them until I got home - only to discover that these two, otherwise unconnected books, both contained exactly the same illustrated article about UFOs! My little kid mind was officially blown!

The Pembury Hospital fêtes were fixture of the Knight's social calendar as, in their day, the events were always able to attract "big name stars" to open them.

One year we had Rod Hull & Emu (I'm only slightly ashamed to admit that I stroked Emu) and another time there were a couple of genuine Daleks for people to inspect (before my time, even William Hartnell, dressed as The First Doctor, opened the fête one year).

In later years, once I was a local journalist, the hospital fête gave me my first opportunity to interview Louise Jameson (The Fourth Doctor's companion, Leela).

She was thinking of moving to the area and so ended up grilling me on what I thought about Tunbridge Wells.

Either later that year or the next she moved to Rusthall, on the outskirts of Tunbridge Wells.  I like to think I played some small part in that decision.