Convalescent

So I spent two days cooped up like a chicken in my flat because of 'an inflammation of the small intestine' (Chambers Dictionary).

The first day was not boring, just dull. I was too weak to be bothered about it being boring. I was very glad to sleep off my fatigue and not think about the pain in my abdomen. I was praying to God - "Dear God, I will be a better person when I get better. Honest." - and writing down lists of all the good things I would do once I got better. I didn't feel like eating anything at all but I forced myself to drink a lot of fluids. By the evening I started feeling a little bit better and fancied I could go to work the next day.
"No you shouldn't. You should stay in."
M. said when I suggested that I go in to work. But I resisted, so he gave in - on the condition that I don't overdo it. I went to sleep feeling cheerful.

At around 2pm the next day M. woke me up with a call.
"Didn't you say you were going into work?" he teased. By now my strength was flagging from the sheer lack of calories. So I made some eggy soup and tried not to fall asleep again - it felt as if I had some sleep disorder, the way I was sleeping so much. I decided I needed some cerebral stimulation but all I could bring myself to read was books that I had already read. Eventually I succumbed to the numb easiness of watching television.

The 'rents called.
"I wish I could make sticky rice for you. I hear that plums are good for upset stomachs. Can you find them there? You shouldn't go into work today, you know." (My mother)
Yes mother, but I'm ill. I don't want to get out of the house. And I don't think I want to eat plums. And no, I am not going in to work.
"You're still not at work? You know why you're ill? It's because you've been travelling and overdoing things." (My father)
Thanks Dad. Just don't tell me to go to work because I don't think I can.

I didn't expect my two team mates and my secretary to call me at home asking how I was. It was nice but at the same time rather funny because the conversations all went pretty much the same way as below:
Colleague: "How are you feeling? Were you sleeping?"
Me: "Er, hi. Yes. Yes."
Colleague: "Oh, sorry. I should let you sleep. Take care and hope you get better soon."
Me: "Thanks. Bye."
Colleague: "Bye."

Today I get in to find my colleague A. making me Indonesian ginger tea - his secret recipe, he says. Now I'm just mystified. I guess this is the difference when you are working in a much smaller office. In stark contrast, my father called to tell me that I need to get on with my work since I've been out of the office for two days. The way he goes on, you'd think he was my boss.