I may die due to not being able to breathe.
OK, I won't because I am on super antibiotics and strong painkillers but I sound like I have emphysema. I know this because I was standing in the queue of the Post Office yesterday and the old dear in front of me turned around and looked startled and then said, "Oh, I'm sorry dear, I thought you were my husband. You sound like him. He has emphysema."
Which was nice.
So, despite Spring, and therefore sunshine approaching, I'm in bed feeling sorry for myself. Though I am about to watch Pretty in Pink on On Demand. So it's not all mucus.