As a teenager and then as an adult I used to fall ill very seldom. Since joining the current employer, I took a sick leave once, in September 2024, owing to serious problems with spine, but all sparse infections I have had were mild enough to work from home. Even my COVID-19, contracted stupidly on a housewarming party, was a mild, though uncanny cold with no complications thereafter.
If the are familiar with previous post, you are most likely aware the fourth quarter of 2025 was a kind of tiresome for me. From the 20 December each night I slept between 8 and 10 hours, vs. long-term optimum of 7 hours sufficient for my body to regenerate. It was desperately calling for rest and regeneration and I did not resist it. But long-term fatigue might have played havoc with my immune system as well.
I a rush of the last quarter of 2025 I have not taken a vaccination against flu, a mistake I am not going to repeat, especially since medical plan paid by my employer offers large supply of doses available at any centre, at any time slot. But for several years, despite being exposed to people infected with flu, I would never come down with it. I had such vaccine once, in 2022.
On 22 December my father went to the hospital in Piaseczno to pick up his medical examination results. He claimed he had waited 15 minutes or so in a corridor full of coughing people. Most likely the story began there. My father was the first to be laid down to bed, complaining about fever, shivers and other symptoms on a Christmas day. He has come out of it relatively quickly, most likely with high body temperature he has combatted the illness fast, but remains weak until now.
My mother felt off-colour on 26 December. On that day it occurred to me except for buying medicines for parents, I should drop in on my dwelling to pick up infection combo tests. I tested my father and the indication was clear – influenza A. My mother got knocked down by the illness. On 27 December I ordered her a telemedicine appointment and she got prescribed anti-flu pills. I drove to town in the evening to get the prescribed medicines despite not feeling particularly well.
On 28 December I returned home, pottered about and thought I would get off it lightly. No such luck. Next two days I felt unwell, yet not tragically, but worked from bed.
On 30 December the fever rose, I would not sleep the whole night, so in the morning I caught a slot with a doctor, my parents’ GP. Thus on New Year’s Eve I fell officially into nationwide statistics of flu infections and got my set of pills. The GP said it would go away within 2 or 3 days, a vivid overpromise (back then and with hindsight). The last day of December was also the worst day, with all bones and joints aching, a headache, cough and runny nose, this all accompanied by fever of roughly +37.5C.
This must have been a turning point, since on 1 January I did not feel that awful, yet tremendously frail. I recalled stories from the worst 2020/21 COVID winter of people getting so tired with a walk to the toilet and back that they had to sleep it off for 12 hours. My state was nowhere as bad, but far worse than any other infection I have had at least in a decade.
On Friday and yesterday I was slowly pulling through. Most symptoms, including fever, are gone, yet I still feel terribly weak. Most likely I will be on the mend for a fortnight, before I am back in top form.
Take care of yourselves!
