Being ill on your own is rubbish
Posting on the blog has been a bit patchy over the last couple of weeks as I've had a cold. The kind that makes your throat sore and scratchy, your nose both run and block up, and your voice swoop between a squeak and a croak. And it's reminded me how hard it is being ill on your own.
Winter can be hard for people who are widowed. It's dark and cold, and it’s the time when we are most likely to get colds and flu. Getting ill also reminds us that we are alone – there's no-one to bring that cup of tea, check in on us, get us something to eat or pass us some paracetamol. There are a few things we can do, though, to make things not seem so bad.
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I was widowed at 50 when Tim, who I expected would be my happy-ever-after following a marriage break-up, died suddenly from heart failure linked to his type 2 diabetes. Though we'd known each other since our early 20s, we'd been married less than ten years.