My partners, male family, friend’s menfolk, time & time again the world stops when blokes have a cold. Many have been heard to utter “I’m dying”, as they reach for they tissues to once again blow their nose like a trumpet sounding a death note.
I know, everybody knows someone who we’ve decided is “faking”, and I’m not saying we’re all wrong (hell, some of you may have met my ex husband, and you’re definitely right in his case). But let me present you with an alternative.
For the last week I’ve been forced to rest, far more than I would like, and that has led to three things; boredom, homesickness, and a large amount of people watching. In my confined state, those people have been fellow inmates, and nurses, and, in case you didn’t know already, nurses are angels.
“In your hatred fuelled actions you sought to divide us, an attack on Muslims as much as on the people physically affected. You need others to hate, to attack, to blame. But we won’t. Hate doesn’t kill hate, love kills hate, and in the aftermath of your atrocious attack the love and strength was palpable.”