Fantastic Plastic Machine

Swimming turned out to be a temporary reprieve. I am now in so much pain that I can’t do anything but lie on my back, with my knees elevated, and ties at my hips, knees and ankles. If I turn my neck to look at the TV, it twists my back and I end up in pain. If I lift my head to eat or drink, it moves my hips and I end up in pain.

My right arse cheek has gone numb, as has the heel of my right foot. It feels as it my entire pelvis is being crushed in a vice, or possibly twisted.

Added to this is the unrelated problem that I can’t move my right arm because my whole shoulder girdle has gone to pieces.

So I’m in awful limbo, using speech-to-text, staring at the ceiling, in a constant 5 of pain, that spikes to at 10 every time I so much as breathe too heavily.

And Dearest is in Manchester. So I’m settled in with the landline, a bottle of Irn Bru that i can’t lift, a shirt that I can’t even get into, and the horrible suspicion that I’m going to need to call for an ambulance.

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