I didn't report yesterday on my night at the theatre as, regrettably, I had to watch the show through one eye after my latest sinusitis attack, which began just an hour before curtain up.
I had hoped my searing headache would have gone before bedtime, but it didn't, leaving Tuesday night as sleepless and yesterday as a very long day.
However, matters improved.
As luck would have it, Charlotte was booked in with Dr Shit at 9.30am yesterday for her eight-week check-up. So, after doing my doting daddy stuff, I cheekily demanded some anti-biotics for myself - and was prescribed some £7.20 nasal spray.
Habitually dubious about Dr Shit's credentials - based solely on my experiences of her over the years - I then bravely raised the possibility that a nasal spray might not be enough to solve my problem and asked that she suggest something additional to ease my sinus traumas.
And, to my astonishment, she did.
A "nasal douche," which didn't cost me £7.20.
No, it cost me £15.
And last night I had my first go.
Without going into too much detail, essentially what you do is blow half of a bottle of fluid up one snooter hole, and wait for it to come out the other. Or your mouth. Truly scrumptious, it really is. But, after a single effort last night, I can say that it might even work.
Treatment number two is due in the next few minutes.
And, after that, I'll only have 58 doses (or douches) left.
Rather me than you, eh?