With the passage of time, however, two further telltale signs of actual, as opposed to feigned, illness have become apparent, alas 45 years too late to be of use to Mum.
1) Music - I just can't listen to it if I have any vaguely flu-like symptoms running around my system. I occasionally allow the background chatter of Radio 4 to permeate my fevered dreams, but it's the only time in my life that I find music actually painful.
2) Coffee - My love of the bean is well documented, but not when I'm sick, oh no. At that point, my beverage allegiance switches mysteriously, instantly and totally to Earl Grey Tea. Worryingly, it shows no signs of switching back just yet.
It's Wednesday evening and this '48 hour' bug has long overstayed it's welcome. Now I wanna be well. (For obvious reasons I can't enjoy Da Bruddas right at the moment, but I trust you will.)