The exertions of the gig in Scarborough had been too much. While the first time they had claimed my soul and given me a comedy death, this time, the casualty was my throat. Or at least that's how it felt. I'd performed my hardest, with Aspirin as my protector against the pain, but when I woke up the following morning, the pain was back and it was a lot worse. My throat felt very bad. I put myself on an Aspirin taking regime and got my ass to work. I was on 8 Aspirin a day and the pain was manageable, but only just.

I booked myself an appointment with the Doctor and soldiered on. I didn't solder on. I would have quite liked that. I like soldering. Wouldn't it indeed be great if the world's problems could be solved with soldering, rather than military action? It might be superb. A small piece of circuit board could feed the starving nations and...

...anyway, I managed to drag myself about the place, but I was not feeling at all good. Come the morning of the 14th, I was glad to get to the Doctor. He told me, by diagnosing with a torch and his eyes, what I already knew. My left tonsil was enflamed and giving me a lot of pain. The pain had spread to my left ear too, though that was probably more of a confusion in my brain, which is not good at receiving pain signals. The Doctor told me that I had tonsilitis and that I should take a course of penicillin. I hilarious renamed these the "silly penis pills". I'm so funny. I should be shot for being that hilarious. Ho de ho.

I left the Doctor's surgery and headed to the chemist. I'd also run out of Aspirin and so it was time to stock up. It was going to be a long haul. The Doctor reckoned that I might be better by the following Thursday for my gig at the Comedy Store (he didn't put it like that, but that was my conclusion). He reckoned that I wouldn't be better by the Tuesday (when I was supposed to be doing a gig in Ayr). So, I realised that I was in for the long-haul. I needed drugs. I needed serving badly. What I mean is that I was in dire need of being served promptly. What actually happened is that I went to a chemist and received poor service. They didn't take cards (fair enough for a small suburban chemists, but irritating nonetheless) so I had to go to the nearby cash machine. Then the girl behind the counter couldn't identify soluble aspirin, despite my pointing them out to her. Equally, the pharmacist took ages to count out 28 penicillin tablets and give them to me. It's not difficult, and it's hardly a rare form of medication. Aaagh. You're supposed to feel better after a visit to the chemists...

I stood at my car. The car was facing town and I really wanted to go to work and get on with the day. Well, at least, I had really intended to get my ass into the office and get on with things. I stood at the car. I thought about going into town and my legs almost gave way. I needed to sleep, I was weak and needed nursing. My nurse was back at the house and I headed back, calling in sick on the way. I then spent the day asleep. It seemed to do the trick as the pain subsided a bit by the following day.