For those not in the loop, he just got back from Bali and came down with a fever and associated upleasantness, to the point where yesterday morning I was on the phone to the after hours medical clinic to see if we should dump him in a bucket of ice or quarantine him on and island or something. Instead the advice was:
"You have called the after hours medical clinic after hours. We open at 8am." Which is the same time the normal-hours medical clinic opens.
So anyway, yesterday I was all ready to dash off to emergency or battle tropical viruses with Cullen's sword and shield, and we discussed the option of having an ice pick ready in case he turned into a zombie. Luckily, none of these interventions ended up being necessary and by last night he'd stopped radiating like Fukushima 3 and was coloured less like a beetroot and more like a normal Wheel. And he's not bleeding from his eyeballs, so that's good. Crisis averted.
Meanwhile, my friend who accidentally covered herself in pouron cattle drench reports that her coat is shiny, her tail is nice and clean, and she's stopped scooting her bum across the carpet.
Clearly things are looking up.