Source: The Mirror (UK online newspaper)

Just over a week ago now, I stood, bubbly in hand, adrenalin (sic) in body, together with five other relatively tame (it must be an age thing), but dedicated, New Year party animals, daring to contemplate how lucky I was. Watching fireworks explode out of Big Ben (the TV screen was so big, the oohs and aahs so genuine, it felt like we were there), having had a great Christmas (thanks to all we managed to see), I dared to surmise that 2011 had been a kind and a particularly good one. On a more mundane and immediate level too, the cold I had had in the run up to Christmas had virtually gone…

Specific highlights that spontaneously sprang to mind included a stimulating new job, some great times with friends and family, both in Norway, the UK and Switzerland, and some horizons gently extended, physically and figuratively, not least by the world of blogging (so a big thanks both to those of you who are the bloggers I read for my entertainment and inspiration and an equally big thanks to you for reading and commenting on my self-indulgent outpourings). What´s more, despite the deep felt sadness of losing our dear companion Bradley, generally speaking there was good health for those around us, not to mention close family being augmented by two new humans and, once we were ready, a new adopted dog. “Yup, I´m lucky,” I thought, albeit followed swiftly by a cautious nervous internal chuckle accompanying the perusal “Hm, I wonder how long this will last?”

Well, it lasted precisely one day.

For someone who hates taking pills, this was hard to swallow

Basically since then (until now, obviously!) I have been bedridden, feeling like a crock of something unmentionable. Seemingly, the cold I had had must have left my immune system a bit on the vulnerable side because what I thought was a slight residual cough suddenly evolved somewhat. A stubborn but natural attempt to go to work 2 January, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed, was followed by a return home and collapse into bed three hours later. A subsequent trip to the doctor to get something to clear-it-up-quickly-please-so-I-can-go -back-to-work-tomorrow, turned into tests, prodding and poking and the words, in (almost) random order: mycoplasma pneumonia; bed rest; contagious, you`ve got to be kidding.

But happily, as evidenced by my return now to a familiar mental state, I have slavishly followed (OK, didn`t have to energy to do otherwise) the doctor`s orders and, assisted by some strong antibiotics, am preparing to re-enter the land of the living tomorrow as a (all things are relative) normal human being. So, what´s the point of all this then?

Basically I just wanted to point out that this New Year I have learned a lesson. Unused to being ill – I honestly can`t remember the last time I was forcedly bedridden – I have learned not to take my health for granted, nor that of my nearest and dearest (not that I think I did, but both this and the nasty operation of a good friend I am only used to seeing fit and lively has brought the message home).  So, while, like many others, I guess, who vow in January to aim for better this, that and the other, I do so too, somewhat more humble than I might have been. For the record then, my new year`s resolutions are:

• Not to take a good night`s sleep and good health for granted
• Not to take the health of loved ones for granted
• To stretch myself (every which way and loose)

And of course I also want to eat less, exercise more and to be a nicer person, blah blah, I mean it, blah.

Happy New Year! Hope it brings you health, wealth, happiness and may a good night`s sleep always come easy!