I mentioned yesterday that I had made an appointment with a local physiotherapist.

It was a spur of the moment thing where I literally just picked up the phone and dialed. I had never had any dealings with physiotherapy before, apart from hospitals where they just tend to do the absolute minimum and if you’re lucky you’ll get a photocopied sheet of paper with a couple of illustrations on it.

Anyhows I went down at the appointed hour and met my therapist Ciara. She was bright and breezy and sat me down for a quick chat. I told her exactly what had happened to me in the hospital and how I couldn’t move my head any more.

She took me through a few tests, which I failed miserably. I couldn’t do any of the arm movements she suggested.

She lay me on a couch and put me through the same tests. I did them all without the slightest bother. This kid knows her stuff! So am I destined to spend the rest of my days on a couch if I want to do anything? Apparently not.

She then got to work on the muscles in my neck. It was fucking sore I will admit, but I could feel a difference. She explained all about major muscles and minor muscles and I pretended to understand. I didn’t care. Something was happening and it felt good.

At the end of the session I made an appointment for a week’s time and left. Already I’m looking forward to the next session.

On the way back to the car I passed the coffee shop. Naturally I called in as some of the gang was there. I sat. I ordered coffee. I chatted. And then I realised – the day before, I had tried the same thing and was in fucking agony to the point where I just had to leave. But here I was, chatting away and feeling great. Yes, the pains were there but they were more than bearable.

Next thing, a few more of the gang arrived. Apparently the phone calls had gone out – “He’s here!”.

So we sat out on the covered terrace in the usual spot. The sun shone, and occasionally the heavens opened in a downpour. It could hardly have been more pleasant. I stayed far longer than normal and was absolutely fine. In fact I felt great. That coffee shop is a thousand times more than a coffee shop. It’s a true social hub and a lifeline for the lonely and the not so lonely.

Last night I slept in my armchair which I have taken to doing. It’s very comfortable and less painful than the bed.

I slept for nearly twelve hours.