A gross thing has happened to me over the past few days – nosebleeds.
I thought I’d grown out of these when I left my teens (except for the odd knock here and there).
But the other night I woke up thinking that I’d dribbled in my sleep, only to realise it was actually blood.
It’s kept on coming, every now and then, together with differing advice from every member of my family about what to do to solve the problem.
It’s so undignified when you’re in your 40s: the tissues, the mess and the internet searches.
Because where once I wouldn’t have bothered to look up causes for nosebleeds, the knowledge of the world is now at my fingertips, giving me hypochondria as well as burst blood vessels.