Not One to Complain...

I post this from my sick bed. I'm not a well man but I don't really want to talk about it....

Man Flu - A Serious Condition

No Sympathy for the Ranter...

Man Flu - The Facts (well, sort of...)

Men may have a weaker immune system and could be more vulnerable to so-called 'man flu', scientists propose. Evolutionary factors and hormonal differences may make males more susceptible to infection than females, says a Cambridge University team. Their theory, outlined in a scientific journal, suggests there is a trade-off between a strong immune system and reproductive success.

Previous experiments have found differences in the ability of females and males to deal with infection. The study, published in Proceedings of the Royal Society B journal, investigated the reason for these differences. Dr Olivier Restif, one of the authors, said: "If you assume that males are more exposed to infection, then can natural selection influence that process?"

To find out, scientists developed a mathematical model that highlighted the role of other factors, like ecology and epidemiology, in shaping the immune systems of men and women.

"If males are more exposed to infection than females (for behavioural reasons for example), it is possible to see them evolve lower immuno-competence than females," the authors wrote.

But John Oxford, Professor of Virology at the University of London, disagrees.

He says his team at the University of London deliberately infected men and women with the flu virus. He says there was no noticeable difference between their recovery times or their immunity.

"But the women did complain more," he added.

From the BBC News Website

So now it's official - Man Flu does exist. Although Professor Oxford disagrees - however, I particularly liked his comment in the final paragraph...

Countdown to....

It seemed a tad ironical that I had trouble sleeping last night. Having been affected by Man Flu, I have been struggling for much of this week to keep my eyes open. Not that I expect sympathy, mind. Although I'm grateful for the hundreds of comments from people on this blog who have been wishing me well....

But last night I just couldn't get to sleep. Perhaps it had something to do with the fits of hysterics that afflicted me as Edinburgh's Talk 107 radio station gave regular updates of Hibernian's attempts to provide some sort of opposition to Barcelona at Murrayfield. Congratulations to the wee team who managed to keep the score down to 6-0.

So, at 1.30am I headed downstairs and switched on the telly. BBC2 was trying manfully to fill the gap that resulted from a recount from the Glasgow East Parliamentary by-election. A superb win for the Scottish National Party - I've never felt independence so close for my country as I do now. But flicking through the plethora of brainless television channels provided courtesy of Freeview, I was gobsmacked to discover what was happening on QVC - The Shopping Channel. The early hours of 25th July it may have been but QVC were a full five months ahead - it was Countdown to Christmas.

I kid you not, dear reader, QVC's studio was decorated with Christmas trees, tinsel, holly, the lot. I thought they were bad last year when I caught glimpse of a similar show in August. But with temperatures yesterday in Edinburgh in the seventies and scarcely a breath of air to be had in the stifling heat of the night, QVC were digging out the Santa Claus outfits.

Many of us are already convinced Christmas is increasingly a commercial festival instead of a religious one. But there's a time. And July just isn't it.

Someone, please, stop the world. I want to get off....

Not a Well Man

Now, I'm not one to complain. But despite my youngest daughter Michaela's assertion that I have a 'bit of a sniffle', I'm more inclined to think I've succumbed once again to Man flu. So as I'm not a well man, I thought rather than waste important energy on another rant, I would offer this story...

This fella, having split from his latest girlfriend, decided to take a holiday. He booked himself on a cruise and proceeded to have the time of his life, that is, until the ship sank.He found himself on an island with no other people, no supplies,nothing, only bananas and coconuts.

After about four months, he is lying on the beach one day when the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen rows up to the shore. In disbelief, he asks, 'Where did you come from? How did you get here?'

She replies, 'I rowed from the other side of the island. I landed here when my cruise ship sank.''

'Amazing,' he notes. 'You were really lucky to have a row boat wash up with you.'

'Oh, this thing?' explains the woman. 'I made the boat out of raw material I found on the island. The oars were whittled from gum tree branches. I wove the bottom from palm branches, and the sides and stern came from a Eucalyptus tree.

'But, where did you get the tools?'

'Oh, that was no problem,' replied the woman. 'On the south side of the island, a very unusual stratum of alluvial rock is exposed. I found if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into ductile iron. I used that for tools and used the tools to make the hardware.'

The guy is stunned.

'Let's row over to my place,' she says. After a few minutes of rowing, she docks the boat at a small wharf. As the man looks to shore, he nearly falls off the boat. Before him is stone walk leading to an exquisite bungalow painted in blue and white.While the woman ties up the rowboat with an expertly woven hemp rope,the man can only stare ahead, dumb struck.

As they walk into the house, she says casually, 'It's not much but I call it home. Sit down, please. Would you like a drink?''

'No! No thank you,' he blurts out, still dazed.'I can't take another drop of coconut juice.'

'It's not coconut juice,' winks the woman. 'I have a still. How would you like a Pina Colada?'

Trying to hide his continued amazement, the man accepts, and they sit down on her couch to talk. After they have exchanged their stories, the woman announces, 'I'm going to slip into something more comfortable. Would you like to take a shower and shave? There is a razor upstairs in the bathroom cabinet.'

No longer questioning anything, the man goes into the bathroom. There, in the cabinet, a razor made from a piece of tortoise bone. Two shells honed to a hollow ground edge are fastened on to its end inside a swivel mechanism.

'This woman is amazing,' he muses. 'What next?'When he returns, she greets him wearing nothing but vines, strategically positioned, and smelling faintly of gardenias. She beckons for him to sit down next to her.

'Tell me,' she begins suggestively, slithering closer to him, 'You've been out here for many months. You've been lonely. There's something I'm sure you really feel like doing right now, something you've been longing for?' She stares into his eyes .

He swallows excitedly and tears start to form in his eyes.....





'Bloody hell, don't tell me you've got Sky Sports?'

Man Flu

Now I'm not one to complain.

But it's Friday night, the start of a long weekend with no work on Monday due to a public holiday. Whoopee. But instead of propping the bar of one of Edinburgh's finest hostelries celebrating the prospect of three days away from the perpetual struggle that is work, I'm lying in bed - fighting what will be a losing battle against the onset of that most serious of illnesses.

Man Flu.

My throat became dry around lunchtime, painful late afternoon and now, early evening, it's absolute agony. I feel like I've swallowed a broken bottle. My head aches, my nose is beginning to stream akin to a current on the River Forth and my body is aching, like it's been twelve rounds with Joe Calzaghe.

So, I'm propped up in bed, all on my ownsome, with a mansize box of Kleenex tissues for a mansize illness. As any man will tell you, women just don't know how lucky they are. When the fairer sex get a sniffle it's as if the world is ending. But we males get the much more serous Man Flu and get little sympathy.

I only hope I am able to struggle out of bed on Saturday for my grandson Jack's third birthday party. Daughter Laura will have a houseful of screaming little brats as Jack's friends head for platefuls of crisps, chocolate, sausage rolls and juice.

I can't wait to join the little blighters and wouldn't want to have any excuse not to go.

Now, where's the Lemsip....?