Heavenly Drained

So, after three days of progressively losing the use in my leg and taking higher and higher doses of morphine to try to cope with it, I finally cracked about half an hour ago and phoned my GP.

I described the problem, and how I couldn’t walk at all, or stand up straight, and how it had been around a seven all day, spiking into the horrible static off the top of the pain scale whenever I did something other than lie perfectly still with my knees elevated and tied together, and how I couldn’t take any more painkillers for it.

Knowing that I exercise a lot, he asked “When did you last go for a swim?” and I replied “Eight days ago.”

He gave a thoughtful little sigh and said “You’ll feel better if you go for a swim. Go for a swim tonight or tomorrow morning, that’ll loosen it out, and you’ll feel better.”

I feel a bit like the biblical cripple being told by Jesus to “Stand up!”

But, well, who am I to refuse? I’ll have to get a lift the hundred yards to the pool, and a lift back, and be winched in and out of the water like a sea creature, but it’ll be worth it.


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