That was the week that wasn’t
This can only be described as a cesspit of a week.
Anything that could go wrong went wrong and did so in spades. I even managed to fuck up an appointment which led to a wasted journey to the hospital and a lot of needless walking.
Add a dicky stomach to the list of ailments which culminated last night in spectacular fashion when my dinner made a reappearance. Luckily the toilet was close at hand. That’s the first time I have indulged in that little exercise in living memory.
Last night was typical. I went to bed at midnight and slept ’til one. Woke up and realised that there was no point in being in bed so I dressed and went out to my armchair where usually I can doze off again. Not so last night. Constant pain and restless legs made sure that I could enjoy every waking moment staring at the darkness outside.
The old legs isn’t as good as they were either. Whereas a couple of weeks ago I could march anywhere and everywhere, now I desperately look out for some spot I can rest my arse to get my breath back. I’m getting very good at finding little spots that I can park the maximus gluteus for a few minutes. Sadly I’m even contemplating a return to the crutches. Fuck!
Herself will give out to me if she reads this. “It’s very dark and depressing”
Maybe so, but then so is life occasionally.
Let’s hope next week will be an improvement.
It could hardly be worse.
At least you are still alive.
I was begining to wonder……….
Crikey, John. That’s a bit blunt!
Pragmatic, more like…
I’m sincerely sorry you’re going through such pain. 🙁
I’m sure pain is something we all suffer from to a greater or lesser extent. It can always be a lot worse.
Sorry for the ailments Grandad, but great to see a new post on here!
The biggest problem is finding something to write about!
You are still strong enough to influence others in a positive way and I do admire you
I very much doubt I influence anyone. Would that make me an Influencer? Jayzus but I hate that term – it gives people a totally undeserved badge of respectability and elevates them to the mediocre.
Is making someone smile or sad or do a double-take because of you drinking tea not influencing someone? Is that a bad thing? Don’t think so …
“It could hardly be worse.”
Never, ever, say that! Tempting Fate that is. And Fate is one mean bugger if you cross him.
I can say this because I’m also suffer from restless leg syndrome plus a back that can get down right ornery at times where the only relief is to get up and sit in the easy chair. Unfortunately I can only do that from late Spring through early Fall. Otherwise it’s to damn cold in the house (no central heating). Not complaining, just saying–and empathizing.
I eventually found something that stills the restless legs – Pregabalin. You might want to experiment there? And get yourself a nice woolen rug [or one of Laurie’s quilts?].
Pregabalin? Blimey, that stuff sent me mad. I would forget things half way through doing them, I didnt know what the equipment I was holding was for, even though I was the senior engineer,and been using the damned stuff for some years. I arrived on a site after driving some distance, a journey I had no recollection of. I had absolutly no idea why I was there and had to phone the customer to ask what I was supposed to be doing… The Dr thought it may be a good idea to maybe try Gabapentin. More fun of a different nature. Then Duloxitine, then give up.
Agreed Kirk!
And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, a blowout! Of course, my spare was flat!
That’s the year zone we’ve reached unfortunately.
Herself insists on imparting her latest wisdom to all younger visitors to The Manor – “Don’t grow old”. I don’t think she has thought of the alternative though.
My GP told me about six months ago that you’re not old until you’re 90! I was complaining about being old and she imparted this wonderful bit of doctoral knowledge in no uncertain terms.
So as she put it, Quiet yourself and quit complaining. You’re not old until you turn 90!