Typhoid Alienora: Gingerly, she hobbles…

Chronicles of an Orange-Haired Woman!


It started with upper right abdominal pain that had me doubled over and groaning like Marley’s Ghost – oh, and a most fetching yellowish shade to my skin (and eyes to match) which did bugger-all for my looks as an (un)natural red-head. Gingerly, I hobbled out of the surgery…

It continued with an agonising drive the ten miles to Weston-super-Mare’s hospital, and a couple of millennia (well, that’s what it felt like) on one of those vile trolleys, during which I moaned, groaned and attempted to beat the Guinness Book of Record’s How many sick bowls can one patient fill in a hour previous, and most impressive, best!

Eventually, I was given that epitome of sartorial taste, the oh-so-flattering hospital gown, (you know the buggers: Expose your arse for all to see, whilst keeping you as cold as an entire coven’s worth of witches’ tits!) and parked in a…

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