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I got whacked by some evil virus yesterday that not only made me burn up with fever, but caused my joints to hurt like mad. Especially my hand and finger joints... it's freaky the way I don't feel anything at first, and then suddenly pain starts zinging up and down my fingers, accurately striking all the nerve ends along the way.

Bloody ouch.

I didn't eat lunch yesterday. Didn't have the appetite. I slept at my desk for 40mins till I couldn't take it anymore and called my dad.

Me : *moaning loud enough for Mr Supervisor to hear* Dadddyyy... I feel sickkkk... I am having a feverrrr...
Dad : Tell your boss you are sick and you need to see a doctor.
Me : I don't dare...
Dad : So how? Need me to bring you to see doctor?
Me : YES!
Dad : Okay. I've got something to do now, but I'll fetch you at 2pm.

My original plan to was to get my dad to speak to my ladyboss about my being sick and all but I then I had another brainwave. I opened my MSN and lo and behold! My ladyboss was online!

Me : Madam, I am having a fever now. May I go to see the doctor at 2pm?
Ladyboss : Okay.
Me : Thank you.
Ladyboss : Welcome.

Phew. That wasn't too difficult. Or maybe she was in a good mood yesterday. I contemplated letting Mr Supervisor know about my afternoon plans, but decided against it. After all, I've already obtained permission from higher authority.

Not letting Mr Supervisor know = speculation among colleagues = major bitching behind my back.

Late last night I got whacked again, this time by the runs. Didn't get much shut-eye as I trotted back and forth to the loo. Woke up in a foul mood this morning. Bitched to my dad about how I don't want to go to work and all...

Dad : Then don't go to work.
Me : Later my colleagues bitch about me non-stop!!!
Dad : Then go to work.
Me : But I got diarrheoaaaaaa...
Dad : Then how? What do you want me to do?!?
Me : *Throws dad a disgusted you-men-are-all-alike look* Haiya! Nevermind lah!

So here I am at work, a bottle of orange-flavoured oral rehydration salt mixture on the right side of my desk and an empty sachet of Bio-Life vanilla-flavoured yoghurt powder mix in front of me. The yoghurt powder is to replace the good bacteria in the colon/intestines. There's a packet of Dhamotil in my drawer. Stupid pharmacist tried to give me some weak diarrheoa pills (on par with lousy Imodium) this morning until I looked her in the eye and specifically asked for Dhamotil. Some more, I had to ask for the yoghurt powder as well.

Lunch time now.

But I still don't dare to eat. Sigh.