Illness or not, I spend a tiny part of my life like a serving of the worlds best cooking, a somewhat larger part like an over eager apprentice smothered me in vinegar, peri peri, salt and MSG, and the majority like a dirty plate waiting in the scullery to be cleaned. Part of the frustration is in being what we would rather not be. It is a very slow learning curve for me to accept that I won't always be my ideal self, but that doesn't make us junk during the stormy parts. I guess it is what we make of it that matters.