Yesterday I mentioned I’d done my back. I had this naive idea that a good night’s sleep would put it right. It didn’t. I woke needing a tiddle just before 4am, and took half an hour just to get out of bed, falling heavily back onto the bed twice. I was rather dubious about going down the stairs, but eventually made my way to the loo. This journey was far more arduous that usual, and so I thought I’d watch telly for five minutes until the pain eased somewhat, before negotiating my way back to bed. This was a good idea in theory, but in practice there was a snag. Having sat down in front of the telly, I couldn’t get up again. I found myself stuck on the sofa. Not just stuck, but utterly immobile. After an hour I eventually got myself standing, and decided that enough was enough. I struggled back upstairs and using my walking stick I poked ‘er indoors TM awake.
She dressed me, and we arrived in the A&E department at 5.45am, to find the place all but empty. There was only one other patient in the waiting area. I explained my tale to the receptionist, and after five minutes a nursey-type took me into a side room and (for want of a better term) gibbered at me. In retrospect I think I probably understood one word in three. She however seemed to understand me better. She offered me the choice of pain relief - a suppository or an injection in the bum. I went with the injection, and was given a rather strong pain killer tablet as well. She then left me in a side room on an empty ward and muttered something about a doctor. I then came over rather light headed and nauseous. Had I eaten breakfast before coming to hospital, I’m pretty sure I would have been sick at that point.
It was as well that ‘er indoors TM was there with me, otherwise I would have been completely alone in an empty ward. I later saw from the medical notes that I got the injection at 6am. We sat and waited, and waited. Despite sending out to see what the hold up was no medical person was anywhere to be seen until the doctor came round shortly after 7am. She then asked all the questions that the receptionist and the nurse had asked, and reacted with surprise when I told her that I’d been given pain killers in tablet and injection form. She then poked me about, and found that I hadn’t broken my back, but that all the muscles in my lower back were in spasm. I could have told her that. In fact I had done. At 7.15am I was discharged with a prescription for a fortnight’s worth of painkillers, which we collected from Asda on the way home.
Perhaps I should have gone to bed when I got home, but I didn’t want to risk becoming stuck again, so I ensconced myself in front of the telly and watched Annabel Croft (woof!) doing “Interceptor”. Such a shame that program got cancelled. And whatever happened to Annabel Croft? I then watched a double helping of SpongeBob, and slept through a morning of “Only Fools and Horses”.
“My Boy TM ” staggered home from the pub at about 11am, and asked what was up with me. When I told him, he fell about laughing, and was still sniggering half an hour later. I staggered upstairs – the chair at my PC is probably the most comfortable one in the house for me at the moment. So I sat there for a few hours working on my presentation for the next astronomy club’s meeting before dozing off.
And then to
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