At some point I must have fallen asleep because the radio woke me up the following morning. I felt somewhat rested but nowhere near enough; everything was still a bit foggy. After breakfast I went for a walk as we had to be out of our rooms between ten and two.
Strolling through a park I felt suddenly dizzy and out of sorts. I staggered to a nearby bench and slumped down. There was something odd happening in my head, a sort of whooshing sound I couldn't identify. I wondered if it was a migraine though I'd never had one before. The dizzy feeling just wouldn't go away so I remained on the bench with my eyes closed for about twenty minutes.
When things seemed to have finally settled down in my brain I opened my eyes. My vision was totally clear but when I stood up my legs felt different, weaker. It was starting to drizzle so I walked steadily, concentrating on staying upright. Maybe my blood sugar was low. The nearest place where I could sit down was a pub so I ordered a meal and a pint of orange juice. Steak, chips and a salad revived me somewhat and I followed it with a pint of Guinness.
I thought that exercise was the best thing if I had developed some kind of physical malady so I went for a stroll around the small town centre and found a book shop. My legs felt better but still not quite right and there was a new kind of fog in my head, subtle yet definitely there somewhere. I picked up a few books and flicked through them but it was harder than normal to read. The words seemed smaller than usual and I found myself squinting to try and make them out. I found a few large print books and they were much easier to read so I bought three of them.
When I got back to the b&b one of the owners gave me strange look.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.
“A bit under the weather,” I said. “Just been over doing it at work. That's why I'm here, rest and recuperation.”
He looked as though he didn't quite believe me but I had paid for a week in advance so he let it be. I went up to my room, closed the door and flopped gratefully onto the bed.
I had no idea what was going on in my head or my body but I didn't like it. Was this my brain rebelling against what I had done, abandoning my life and family? Maybe it was just my nervous system freaking out a bit at my new and uncertain situation. Or else I was just becoming a hypochondriac and imagining it, or subconsciously willing myself to become ill as a punishment for my selfish behaviour.
Whatever the answers, I knew one thing. I needed a lot more sleep.