It was all going so well, until a Tuesday, had a headache on Tuesday so went to bed as soon as I got home from school, only to wake up in the night with a fever. Now we get extra pay of up to 5 days if we don't take any time of sick, so being the brave soldier I am I got up and made it all the way to reception before everyone else sent me back to bed. By 3pm I had decided I needed a doctor, well I am sure that stomach cramps shouldn't make you pass out. Angela and Lynsay were the first to step up to the fray and accompanied me out to the hospital. Check in no problems, and thank goodness the doctor spoke good English. She soon established that I was in pain; I think the prodding gave her a clue. The blood test only took an hour for the results - imagine that in the UK! The speed of service may have been very different to the UK, the end result was the same - you have a virus and here's some anti- biotics. By the next morning, I was convinced I was going to die in Bangkok; the heroes of the day were Felicity and Caroline (Deputy Head). Caroline took us back out to the hospital and they admitted me. Now here's the thing, they admitted me because I was dying (obviously not literally), but trust me the pain was such that I have been put off child birth for good. Anyway, I am curled up in agony in A&E and this woman comes in with a colour brochure to let me pick my room, imagine my response - I don't care, just give me a room (I can't focus on the pictures), she was bloody persistent and in the end I had to get Felicity to pick it. I get wheeled up on the bed via a lift made for three and not a bed, thought the porter and Felicity were going to have to get a lift on the bed. The room was lovely; I have to admit it took a while to appreciate it. Flik was allowed the day off and she caught up with some sleep, and put up with some terrible company. Two days on a drip were, as you would expect, uneventful. The nurses were typical women and only moved in packs, generally one took your temperature, one took your pulse and one fussed around doing…. never did figure that out. You've been sick for a good four days, which means you haven't slept for just as long. Finally you are feeling better and managed to get to sleep, you think you will sleep forever. Imagine my delight when at 5.15am the light goes on and the trio arrive, arm captured, spiked and blood drawn - seriously, could they not have waited a couple of hours? The outcome, 20 hours of saline, antibiotics and the most disgusting oil (apparently electrolytes to help re-hydrate me) I was fit enough to leave. Just as I am being unplugged, the phone rings to remind me to leave the hospital via the payment office, talk about hit you when you're down, thank goodness for the insurance, my part of the bill was just about bearable.