I fell ill on 12 December 2025. It was strange - it didn’t feel like a cold, and I had no cough. I had an insane headache like I’d never had before, and I couldn’t eat anything. During that first week, I had no idea what I was suffering from. If I did force myself to eat three teaspoonfuls of rice, I couldn’t keep it down.
By the end of the week, I had lost two and a half kilos. I slept and slept, sometimes for 16 hours out of 24. It was the lack of energy that was most debilitating, along with the headache. Sometimes I needed two hours to get out of bed in the morning to fetch a glass of water. When I did manage to get upright, my pulse soared, and dizziness swept me - so I sat down again and waited. I had a temperature, and I was freezing from deep inside. I contacted my GP after a week in this state and told him I was feeling awful; he visited me shortly later at home and diagnosed pneumonia.
A couple of days after my doctor’s visit, I was admitted to hospital where they worked out which antibiotic would be right for me. They were caring, and mindful, and patient and not at all stressed out. Which surprised me; it was heartwarming.
Gradually, during the second week, and as the antibiotics started working, I sensed an improvement but still could not eat anything. And so I slept, and lay, and sat and breathed, minute for minute, hour by hour, day by day, week by week.
I was very ill for four weeks, and ‘just’ ill for a further two. I was too weak to read, I had no concentration. I couldn’t watch a film - no concentration. A few friends visited me, keeping a healthy distance, but after 15 minutes, their presence exhausted me too. Even answering a WhatsApp message was too much.
Last week, the first week of February 2026, was the first since that fateful second December week without exhaustion. I restarted work, and it was like coming home. I haven’t been that ill for 50 years. When I was 17, I had glandular fever - so now you all know how old I am ;-)
My experience of the deep Olive state, an all-encompassing tiredness in every single cell of my body, has made me put self-care at the top of my to-do list. I’ve got my Vervain streak under control at last; no starting new projects. My Impatiens-speedy Gonzales personality is currently deactivated. (We’ll see how long that lasts.) I have become more aware of the Oak part of my personality, which means I plod on regardless. (Others would have contacted their doctor after three days of feeling so awful.)
I’ve discovered a way of working ‘organically’ – meaning only doing what I really want to do and not what my sense of duty says I should do. An example of what that means: I’ve been planning to write this piece about my experience of illness for at least four weeks. I’ve closely observed the Achiever part of my personality, who eggs me on, and I’ve said ‘no’ to her - repeatedly.
Today I just wanted to write, and the time was right, at last.
The days are getting longer, and the long, dark, drab, freezing cold winter is receding. I’m going to enjoy spring.
Join me virtually at the Wiener Holocaust Museum for a book talk about The Unspeakable. Breaking my Family’s Silence surrounding the Holocaust. Or in person if you live in London!

My first trip after being ill to the hills of the Black Forest where I live. 7 February 2026
Explore previous postings:
- (Not) learning from experience
- Fleeting moods / longstanding mind states
- The Art of Saying What you Think
- Navalny, Vervain personified
- When nearly everything changes
- Breaking decades of silence (II)
- Who is not socialising and why?
- Breaking decades of silence (I)
- Building site Guardian Angel
- The Travellers - a fun piece!
- A wild bird and the rescue remedy

















From Dr. Bach's Scleranthus description: Those who suffer much from being unable to decide between two things, first one seeming right then the other.
This happened on the way back to Gemany after a visit to the Bach Centre in May 2015. I am sure I was more sensitive to the happenings because of the place I had just visited. I had arrived early at the airport and was just sitting and feeling the hum of Heathrow, simply watching. Something of a luxury these days I think.
Emotional baggage is a metaphorical term implying a "load" that people carry with them. It means that negative feelings we have not let go of are affecting present behaviour and mindsets. That can be the pain of disappointment or rejection, trauma, any kinds of distressing previous experiences and their memories. Emotional baggage comes to the fore in relationships and is often rooted in childhood. This is where the beauty of the Bach remedies comes in. Using them, we ask “how do I feel?" Honest answers will uncover emotional baggage and lead to resolving it, for we alone carry our baggage, no one else. And we alone can let it go.
I was sitting quietly at Joe's place reading one afternoon when there was sudden thud on the window and, looking up, I realised that a bird had flown into the glass. I could see a few downy feathers floating in the air. Jumping up and shouting to Joe who was in another room, I ran to the balcony (his lounge is on the first floor) and lent over expecting to see a dead bird. A blackbird lay about 4m below on the wooden terrace, its right wing stretched out at such an angle that I was sure it was broken. I was already running downstairs when I thought of the rescue remedy and called to Joe to bring it from the kitchen. He joined me a few seconds later and gave me the pipette of the little bottle which he had already opened. I started to carefully approach the bird, I could see that the bird was breathing fast and its eyes were closed. I talked quietly and avoided sudden movements and anxiously took the bird into my hand. Briefly, I marvelled at its perfection, it was a young male bird, probably a fledgling from last year and it had a few white feathers around its beak. I quickly put several drops of the rescue remedy on its beak. Immediately, it opened its mouth and eyes and shook its head, its dazed eyes blinking at me. It did not panic in my hands. Luckily, neither its neck nor wing was broken. I gave it more of the remedy and then, still murmuring quietly, and moving softly, I stood up and placed it in the bushes for it to recover. Half an hour later Joe reported that the bird was no longer there.


Cherry Plum is about to throw her tablet PC on the floor any minute now because the programme she installed last week is not working. The online help portal is not helpful, not only that, the newly installed programme seems to have disturbed the whole workings of her computer and she cannot open any of her documents.