My body has waged war on me when I need it most

As I write to you on an otherwise dreary British July day, I can't help but feel disappointed in myself. Why, when I most need my body to co-operate and be on top-notch form, has it decided to launch a full-blown attack on me?

As you know, I'm shorty off to debut to the world my life story- which, by the way, has suddenly become interesting. I recently applied for a job- World Minister, which- for those of you who aren't sure what that is, is basically Prime Minister of the world. Yep, it's a big under-taking I know, but I thought hey-ho, what's the worst that could happen? So I decided to apply. I mean, I'm not really politically orientated, but maybe that will work in my favour. After all, variety- as they say (whoever 'they' is), is the spice of life. I, am simply providing the bit of cinnamon that is needed to make this job interesting. Anyway, the results of this job apparently coincide with my time in Edinburgh, which is when the first World Minister will be unveiled to the world. You never know, it could be me...

I'm sorry- I do digress (as you probably know by now).

I was going to tell you that I have developed a sore throat and am in the primary stages of a cold. Unbelievable! I never get ill (touch wood), and now, when I need my body most does it decide to turn against me? I mean, I treat it well, but perhaps that's no longer enough. I just don't understand why- when my body has the option of rebelling against me for 365 days in a year, it opts to do it now, at a crucial moment. It's like, it's been dormant for months on end and suddenly gone- 'aha, let's make life interesting for Mildred- keep her on her toes.' Well thank you body, but you should be prepared, for I am armed and ready to fight back with the most sophisticated weaponry known to man- medicine.

That's right. I'm taking action. In my artillery I have:

• assorted throat sweets (all as unpleasant as each other).
• vapour rub (to steam 'it' out of my system).
• hot berry drinks (not the lemon ones- eww, gross).
• throat spray (tastes vile, but blissfully numbs the offender).
• two different cough syrups- the first, mentholated; the second, honey and lemon.
• multivitamins (because you can never be too sure).
• a pot of honey and a lemon (there were two lemons, but one ceased to be yellow, so we parted ways).
• various cold/flu tablets for the daytime and night (to ensure that battle can commence for 24 hours, not just in my waking moments).
• nasal spray- I'm new to this product. Delivers an unusual sensation, but I guess that means it's doing it's job.
• my hands- the operatives and administrators that allow this operation to run smoothly. 

Let battle be won through mentholated madness, soup, hot honey and lemon  and regular nasal dousing. I will not succumb to the battlefield, nor will I succumb to snoozing drowsily in bed with a hot water bottle. I will fight this cold valiantly until the end. But first, I think I might indulge in a nice hot bubbly bath.

And then, I launch my first wave of attack via the nasal passage, the teeth cave and some uncomfortable inhalations. This plan I confide to you in utmost secrecy. We can only hope it doesn't end up in enemy territory, lest they launch a counter attack.

As of 12 hundred hours today, Mildred v MB (Mildred's Body) has begun.

May the best Mildred win.