Oooh, the payne, the payne!
For much of the last 7 days I have been focused on trying to recover from this sciatica.
With that in mind, I have been a regular at the physiotherapist who has pummelled me, squeezed me, certainly hasn't teased me and has indulgently laughed at my half-hearted attempts at humour as I lay, walrus like, on this table with my head poking through a hole. This meant I had an uninterrupted view of the floor and my bottom in the air with a stream of “somewhere to park me bike" gags floating through my mind.
I have now developed a sympathy with people who suffer from chronic pain and can see how debilitating and wearing it must be.
In no way am I suggesting that what I am experiencing is anything other than a mild discomfort; a slight numbness around the knee coupled with difficulty in putting my sock on.
Recovery seemed to be going according to plan. The exercises had changed from knees-up-to-the-chest-and-turn-them-to-the-left-and-down in an attempt to free the disc in my spine which had bulged slightly, due to a lifetime of bad posture. So I have dedicated much time to lying otter-like on the settee with my feet up on the coffee table, watching TV.
After a few days, some improvement was noticed so the exercises changed to doing half-press-ups. This means not lifting the stomach off the floor, but just hauling myself off the bed with my arms and arching my back.
This was coupled with some acupuncture. Never had this before. Some people swear by it. Others put it up there with snake oil salesmen. Would I, after a couple of needles, leap to my feet in front of the carnival crowd, shouting "I can walk, it’s a miracle!" and throw my crutches away?
Well, lying down in a small room in a rather tatty office block in West London may not have the excitement, nor the crowd of a revival meeting, but the sentiment was there.
Would it hurt? Would I feel instant relief? Would it cause me any damage? A friend of mine some years ago let herself be used as a guinea pig for acupuncture and had a nerve injured by an overzealous student.
There was I thinking they practised on balloons. It’s a bit like being a bomb disposal person if you had to do that. Another thought strikes me. "What happens with very fat people?" You can be walking down the high street and suddenly there is a scream and an almighty explosion. Blood and offal rain down as another chubber explodes due to the wrong type of needle.
Apparently - and this is quite a good wheeze - they practice on each other.
Just think how good an idea this is. If you are a state sponsored torturer you would be expected to get a mate to pull your own fingernails out, or do a spot of water-boarding, before you headed off down the Students’ Union for more binge drinking and the Pyjama Hop during Freshers week.
Sniper? Well, your flatmate is drawing a bead on you right now......
The recovery was going pretty well. The acupuncture seemed to work and I even had a comedy bandage on my back to keep me in the right position.
I was getting the feeling back in my knee. The pain in my back was subsiding and it seemed I was pretty well on the road to recovery…until I had a visit from the fabulous "........."!
Yes, my gorgeous and rather shy girlfriend. She popped round the flat to see how I was on her way back from the office.
As she is shy, she is known for the purposes of this blog as, "Blank Space"
I had opened a bottle of wine and this is sort of how the evening panned out:-
glug glug glug
left hand down a bit
Rattel ham rattel ham
Gotta go see you later.
And that, ladies and gentleman, is why my recovery has been put back awhile.
Or, if you came in halfway through this blog…
And that, ladies and gentleman, is how the elephant got its trunk!