Twenty-Four lengths of the pool indicates that L's health may be up-swinging a touch.
I drive to work to save some coughing in reserve for squash and fortify myself with a pub lunch as a precaution.
L is too ill to accompany us to the game, let alone run there. A long rally on the fifth point of the first game leaves me lying on the floor gasping and coughing. As I suspected, I’ve perhaps not totally recovered myself just yet. I hang on to consciousness long enough to win one game.
(Thursday 9th April)