So let’s recap, shall we?

My eyeballs are boiling in their sockets. No, really. There’s fucking STEAM coming out of my tear ducts.

My legs are behaving as if they belong to a newborn baby giraffe.

My inner ears feel as though I’ve just dived to two atmospheres without equalising.

My joints, every single one, are protesting their very existence by pretending to be full of ground glass. Hilarious!

And my throat. I could talk about barbed wire and flamethrowers and jackhammers and none would do the pain justice. The back of my throat resembles nothing more than the bomb-cratered and bloody quagmire of Verdun.

So. Do I have a) rabies, b) Ebola, c) mixamatosis, d) Jenkins’ Dickensian Palsy, e) Guinea Worm or f) all of the above?

Answers on a bottle of restorative unicorn tears and kitten smiles to Prof. S. (soon-to-be-dead-of-hypochondria) Jenkins, Over Here, UK Land.

Thank you so much.