I’m bent double. Not with laughing unfortunately.
I’ve got a sciatic nerve making my life a misery. I can’t straighten up without intense burning pain. I think I’m going to spontaneously combust. Each time I think, “I’ll go for a pee” a simple procedure, this terrible thought goes through my head that in just performing such a simple thing as going through the machinations of doing one of the basic things in the human life cycle, will cause me such intense pain.
Pain getting there, pain standing there or sitting down and pain standing washing my hands. The worst pain is when I stretch to hang the towel up. Nerves don’t like to be stretched apparently. Wednesday is normally our “going out” day, yesterday was a staying put in a chair day.
Today has also been a staying put in a chair day after a rather restless night. Either I’ve got used to how to walk, bend and do the basic things, or hopefully, really hopefully, the pain is subsiding gradually because it doesn’t seem so bad. Pain is a strange thing. I have quite a high pain threshold, cuts, bruises on my arms and legs from sporting injuries never bothered me, my hip operations were over and done with in days, the worst pain was subdued by morphine.
I’m not taking any painkillers for this sciatica, I don’t take painkillers for headaches so I’m not jumping on that merry go round until I really have to. I don’t doubt some GP will soon decide my blood sugar is nearly at diabetic levels and try to coerce me to take something to stabilise it. I really don’t want to be forced onto drugs unless there is a real danger my life could be at risk if I don’t.
In the meantime, Astrid is fetching, carrying, cooking, washing up, feeding the cat, cleaning, turning things on and off, locking doors and even throwing the bread out for the birds. Thankfully I can walk albeit painfully to the car and flop into the seat and drive the bloody thing, virtually pain free. I just sit there, flicking through the radio stations whilst she “nips” in and out of the shops.
The best radio station I’ve found so far came by mistake, I inadvertently pressed the “off” switch and there it was, total silence. No meaningless rhetoric, no pointless interviews with monosyllabic football people or BBC 5 Live “in” jokes, no bullshit from squirming lying politicians and no bollocks from local people on local radio about issues they only know about because they read it in the local paper.
Why do they do it? Why do local radio reporters persist in asking “people in the street” questions about fracking or nuclear power? Have I missed something here or was the 78 year old lady with the Poundland bags really an expert on fracking or was she the only person not capable of outrunning the reporter?
And what about the tattooed mother of twins plus one in tow and another bun in the oven, did the reporter really think she had the time away from making babies and rearing babies to understand the slightest thing about offshore windfarms? Apparently she knew they were unsightly and noisy. And little else.
“So as you heard, the people in this city don’t think offshore windfarms are good for the economy and fracking will cause more cancer, back to Derek in the studio…Derek”.
Where do they send these reporters to train? Has the Daily Mail got a training centre where they teach them to ask simple people, simple questions then misquote them totally?
Fracking is dangerous in the long term, like CFCs and lead, the danger may take a few generations to manifest itself, which by then, will be too late, something today’s politicians and businessmen don’t give a shit about.
Offshore wind farms are unsightly but are not noisy. They are good for the economy only if done in a coordinated way like they do in Holland, Denmark and Germany and not permitted to be planted like garden ornamental trees willy nilly as is happening at present.
Anyway, back to my pain. I was thinking of making a coffee for us both then thought how much pain it would inflict; mine to my legs and back and hers on her ears with my moaning.