So, I joined in on a "team building" event. Read "team piss-up". A bottle of wine later, and I was feeling much better, and rather pleased that I'd been able to fight off the evil cold so effectively. I have always said that colds-should-be-ignored-and-bombed-out-with-Nurofen-cold&flu.
I regretted all my bravado the next morning. I felt terrible. My throat was a tight knot, my stomach had spasms of pain echoing through it and my head felt like it had been pulled off and then sewn back on the wrong way round. I lay in bed, curled up with my nose against my knees, hoping that this would all go away, and also trying to think up a plan as I had a meeting at 10am which I needed to be alive for.
So I called down to housekeeping and managed to whisper "panadol" and hang up. Just moving my head made me wince. Here's where the hotel recommendation comes in. The Intercontinental was jaw-droppingly amazing. Within minutes someone was knocking on my door, let themselves in when I must have mumbled something like "come in"(but probably sounded like "kill me"), propped me up in bed, gave me two panadols, had her sidekick boil me some water, asked me whether she should call a doctor (to which I shook my head and dove back under the duvet) and then told me she would call me in two hours to see if I was ok and to make sure I would be on time for my meeting.
Needless to say, I recovered and felt quite human by the time I had to leave. Nothing like a bit of TLC.
Did I mention that they enquired after my health with every wake up call for the rest of my stay? Along with whether I would like tea or coffee to help me ease into the day? I almost cried when I had to check out.