I was prepared for today.  Layers of sunscreen and a full water bottle.  If I was a wiser human being, I’d have worn a hat … but I hate hats!  Two out of three ain’t bad.

For breakfast I had smashed avocado on toast at Urban Ground, washed down with a delicious cappuccino.  Usually this is the time I take my three daily meds and some supplements, but I forgot.

Onto the tennis grounds, eager to see the first match.  Too eager.  I remembered the pills and tried to hurry their consumption.  The Omega 3 is a huge one.  I had learned (and now forgotten) not to take it first.  I took it first, with not enough water.  It stuck in my throat.

I kept drinking water but the nasty little guy was immobile.  Two voices chimed in:

1.  You’re fine.  Suck it up.

2.  You may not be fine.  Find some medical person.  Happily I chose Door #2, although my male ego was leaning the other way.

The event information fellow pointed me towards two uniformed guys.  They listened to my story and escorted me to the first aid office.  Four medical-type people turned their eyes and voices to me.  One gentleman suggested I eat little bits of my Powerbar with water.  Another said that my mind may be tricking me.  The pill may have dissolved partially in my throat and left the scene of the crime.  My brain may be saying it’s still there.

Ten minutes later the interior lump was gone.  Thank you, dear first aiders.

***

I watched two-and-a-half tennis matches in the unrelenting sun.  I slowly got dizzy and weak, despite remaining well hydrated and sunburn protected.  I was praying that Katie Boulter would win her match against Petra Martic in two sets rather than three.  She did.  And then I zoomed off to a shady bench.  Lots of folks were nearby, watching the action on a big screen TV while luxuriating in reclining chairs … in full sun!  “How are they doing that?  Why are they doing that?”

***

I’d had enough of tennis.  My legs were wobbly and my head fuzzy.  I needed to eat something for supper.  All my vacant mind could come up with was McDonald’s.  Such a sad choice.

My Big Mac didn’t go well with an irritated throat.  I did a wee vomit on the counter, and another on the street.  (Sigh)

I stumbled home to my Airbnb.  Hours later here I tap, thoroughly done with today.  Goodnight all you probably air conditioned folks.

Perhaps I’ll buy a hat tomorrow