We arrived in Phom Penh on Monday. We had been out for cocktails the night before for Chris's birthday, and had got the 7.30 bus out of Siem Reap. I was feeling a bit dodgy, but decided it was alcohol mixed with lack of sleep. By around 6 that evening, I thought it was something more, and at around 2 in the morning, I knew it was more. After being in the toilet for a good while (there's no need to relish details here), somewhere between the severe pain and the heat of the windowless bathroom, my eyes blacked out. I fumbled my way back to the bedroom (the bathroom was a shared bathroom, a few metres away from our bedroom), making shakey toddler steps, clinging to the wall. I managed to make it back to our door, and inside and stood there for a minute or so clutching the door-frame, not wanting to lie down but having no idea how to reach my bed or how to negotiate our strewn about luggage. Amy was woken by: "Amy, could you help me back to bed please. I can't see."
According to Amy, I looked blind. She led me to the bed and I promptly smacked my head against the wall as I had no idea which part of the bed she had plonked me down on. I lay down, legs shaking, hands numb, and unable to see. This was when I decided it was more than a hangover.
I had to stay in bed for two whole rubbish days. My biggest activity was walking downstairs to get water. Even this was a mission. Although Hannah lent me her ipod with her audiobooks of Poirot to pass the time. Unfortunately, I found out a few days later that I managed to pick the one story that was incomplete! I don't know who done it.
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