Week 3: Dealing With Freshers Flu

Apologies for not writing an informative post last week. Even bigger apologies are due because I thought that week I was unwell but it got even worse this week which made the other week, in comparison, look like I had as much inconvenience as swatting a rather annoying fly away in a big room. Either way, I've just about recovered and I'm back with a post. This week it should be useful because it's going to explain how I dealt with the dreaded Freshers Flu (which the other week was Freshers Sneeze Attack). Unfortunately I have a time limit (again) because I'm at home in Doncaster. The time is 10.22. My taxi to the train station is at 11.25. And I have other things to do. On with the post!

Upon arrival at the University, I was bombarded with calls of "Register for a Doctor!", "University Medical Practice!", "Dreaded swine flu!", "Death will be on you if you do not register for a Doctor!", "Do it nooowww!". Perhaps they didn't get as serious and forceful as the latter two but the former three are pretty good measures of warning. I knew how important this was but it took me about two or three weeks to actually do something about it, though I had planned to do it in freshers week while I had no pressure to actually work. It's the thought that counts, right? In any case, I registered which took me about half an hour at a push. I could've completed the forms in ten minutes but I had to keep a flatmate out of the flat for a certain amount of time so the rest of the flat could prepare for her birthday without her knowing. But that's not the point. The forms asked the expected questions about jabs and dates of said jabs. It's obviously important because they wouldn't ask otherwise but I couldn't remember which I'd had and when I'd had them so I asked if this was an inconvenience but was told to just leave them blank. I had my NHS card with me anyway so they could check it on my records, which is handy. There's nothing to worry about with the forms apart from the dreaded height and weight input. This means you're faced with having to actual find out. That's alright if you're happy with both statistics but for a lot of people they're not pleasant things to write down. C'est la vie.

Having registered at the University Medical Practice (which is on Prichatts Road, for anyone who really wants to know the details), I had them at my fingertips. To see a doctor or nurse, all I had to do was either phone up or visit and ask for an appointment or turn up at the appropriate times (check them, not me, for the right time slots) for the drop in clinic. As this week progressed, my cough and bunged up nose got worse and worse, along with the lovely conjunctivitis which decided to hate my eyes are various points and not warn me about this, so by Wednesday night I was forced to do the honorable thing: I phoned my Mum and moaned. I was warned when choosing my university top five that wherever I end up, however awesome the university is, if I get ill I will feel ridiculously homesick and if I'm down in Exeter (that was my favourite choice until I was persuaded to Brum's side by various credible sources) then I'd have to reach into my pocket, fork out £80 and get on a train for six hours. Because Birmingham is so central that once I'm in New Street (about five or ten minutes away from the university train station) I'm only one hour forty-five away from home. It's far enough to feel the buzz of being away from home but close enough to bridge the gap whenever I feel like it. It doesn't break the bank, too, at just under £30 for a return train ticket. I bet if I booked two singles a month before I could knock £10 off the price. You know what you can get for £10? I don't know yet, I haven't done my weekly shop. ...but I bet you could get quite a bit at Aldi (which is just 25 minutes walk from Tennis Court and 30 minutes walk from Shackleton).

And so onto the important bit of dealing with Freshers Flu: balancing it with University. As I'm not one who sees minor illness as an excuse out of duty (i.e. work, school, college, university etc) I tried not to miss any classes or lectures whilst suffering with such a disease. On Mondays I have a class in Theatre Practice, which involves practical group work in a big studio space that requires getting very close to everyone. To get to this session, I usually walk. Under such bodily attack I could walk only to Tesco Express (20 minutes from Tennis Court) where I usually get my lunch and/or fruit. When I was walking out of Tesco, I spotted a shining beacon of hope: a pharmacy! Being a rather eccentric and imaginative person, I shimmied (I didn't actually shimmy, I was feeling very ill at the time) up to the counter and asked if they had any 'magic' to cure me of my disease. I was shown the range of cough medicines and chose one that suited my wallet (by cost, not by design, that would be silly) and was advised of the wonders of lemonade ("It has sugar in it so it gives you energy and the lemon is really good for the throat"). I raised my eyebrow at this but remembered it for a flatmate who is unlikely to agree with my Mum's remedy of a cup of honey and lemon juice with hot water. Leaving the pharmacy, I found a bus stop up the road and managed somehow (this doesn't always work) to get the 61 for free.

When I arrived at SOVAC (Selly Oak Visual Arts Centre), I'd managed to work up a nice sweat just from sitting down. That's how bad flu is, kids. It was from this that I judged my available level of participation: zero. TP requires you to meet up with your group in a separate rehearsal room in the SOVAC to do a warm up together that is choreographed by the group using ideas from the classes, from books and from previous experience. I sat out of this week's fun and games and explained to Caroline, who runs TP for our group, that I couldn't take part in the fun this week. She graciously let me sit at the side of the room and take notes. I took this as very much a positive as it meant I could still be in the room and didn't have to clock up an absence. It also gave me a new perspective on the class, having always been in the action. I heard Stephen Fry quote once 'the spectator sees more of the sport'. Perhaps true.

The walk back from SOVAC was awful. I took the free bus as usual but even the five minute walk from the bus stop to my room took much concentration. It was this journey that made me realise that I could not do that again. I had to stay in bed on Tuesday. This is a good opportunity to explain what to do when you have no choice but to miss a class (note: not skip - miss). The proceedure for the Drama department is as follows: contact the office, not the person taking the class. This could be through phoning or emailing but must be done in advance. It can be done on the morning of the day but if you're sure you have to miss a class the night before, do it then. I do. Julie, in the Drama office, is very understanding if you have a proper reason to miss a class and passes the message on to the right person or people. When you return to classes, you have to fill out a medical form that is basically a self-certification. After a certain number of days in a succession, you have to have a note from a doctor or an approved extension from the department. I've had to email in three times so far to warn about missing classes and each time has been received politely and without any annoyance or stress. I suppose they expect that at this time of year there are plenty of people coming down with Freshers Flu.

I'm aware of the time right now so have to speed up to the climax of my dreaded disease. On Thursday morning I phoned the medical centre and booked an appointment. It is very important to actually phone in the morning because when I was sat waiting to be called in (at about 11am), I overheard someone trying to book an appointment but all was full until the afternoon where there was only a slot of about an hour. My doctor was very understanding and extremely sympathetic. She gave me a prescription for my friend Mr Conjunctivitis (which has gone, yay!) and suggested Solpadeine (which tastes disgusting but really does the trick) and ordered me to go home. She actually meant home rather than the flat, too, because she was worried I might spread flu round my flat and course. It was the best thing a doctor has ever told me to do. I took the first train of Thursday afternoon and got into bed at about quarter to four which was the best feeling in the world of feelings. There's nothing quite like spending four nights at home being looked after your Mother.

And with that, my taxi will be here in five minutes so I need to double check I have everything and prepare myself for taking back the epic bag I came with and the extra epic bag I've been given. Vegetables, yay!