Hellscape

So, as the world has gone completely mad, I’ve not had time to talk about Stanmore.

 

First – it was a long day. Left here at nine, got home at 23.00 and didn’t get to eat in that time.

 

The physios were lovely (Physio H, hips, and Physio T, shoulders) and have started me off with a simple shoulder exercise; Lie on back with arm out sideways at shoulder height and forearm bent at ninety degrees. Rotate arm so that forearm travels from pointing towards your head to pointing towards feet, without using pecs or lats – The consensus is that I have basically no stabilising muscles in my rotator cuff, and my pecs and lats and other shoulder muscles (all frankly huge) are doing the work. As H put it “You’re lifting your arm, and activating a muscle that’s meant to pull the arm downwards. That means that the ‘arm’ that you’re lifting weighs probably about twice as much as your real arm”.

 

H opened the session with talking about swimming, and really wants to focus on getting that fitness to carry across to landlocked exercise as well. Like, serious emphasis on doing dryside training in between swimming sessions and using that to get me back up to strength. T, having a good close-read of my actual shoulders and back (Actually looking at and touching, not just vaguely gesturing! She reminds me of Physio C, my benchmark against which all other physios are compared) agreed with Dr Hd from the last Stanmore consultation that I have the muscle pattern of a serious competitive swimmer, right down to slightly shifted and split insertions and heads from a land mammal. She also made me blush by grabbing a handful of lat and going “ooh that’s just lovely to see isn’t it H? Real muscles, and all easy to get at, nothing in the way…” Very much in a professional tone, as one would evaluate carcase quality in beef cattle, but I am easily flattered.

 

The bad news – They think that I would benefit from inpatient, even if I do just stick my headphones on, or nip off to the pool for a session during the basic or counterproductive stuff. I worry that given a torrent of lies-to-children level information about pacing or prognosis, I’d cause disruption. not even deliberately, just by asking questions.

 

Anyway, step one is to return for more outpatient on the 15th of December, nine days after my bike test. Oh, did I mention we have no central heating, and haven’t had for… Over a month now. Ow. And it’s snowing.

 

Ah well, off for that swim. Got to keep on impressing the physios.

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Rasputin

Time is passing.

 

Well, in two days I’ve got Stanmore, again, which I’m trying to look forward to. Going to try to do it in one day again, and to try to get as much out of the single appointment as possible – If there is a second appointment, I probably won’t be able to afford to get to it, even with the disabled person’s railcard.

 

Just failed another Mod 1, so am about to take on the eighth attempt in December.

 

The kitchen ceiling is dripping in three places, and the bedroom wall has filled up with black mould because the outside downpipe has broken. Heating repair is coming on Monday, gutter repair was supposed to be today, but I’ve heard nothing yet.

 

I had to fill in a reapplication for PIP, which arrived on the 3rd of October and was due in for the 3rd of November. I got it sorted eventually, but it took me ages and again there’s something cripplingly embarrassing about having your best friend and their Mum both doing a close-reading of exactly how you wash your hair and feed yourself and wipe your arse. Was frankly mortifying to realise how antisocial I am now; How much I don’t like to see, or talk to new people, and how much it’s getting worse. It wasn’t that long ago, in lifetime terms, that I used to willingly go to societies, and parties, and to find value in meeting new, interesting people. My attempts at such this year turned pretty quickly into realising “I like the swimming, but I wish there were no other people” or “I like riding, but I wish I was the only person at this biker cafe” and, well, I’m not sure if that’s mental illness or just utter disillusionment with all other people. Anyway, it’s been coming on for a few years, but now other than Dearest and Best Friend, I’m a complete hermit, and even seeing them is a little exhausting.

 

In good news though: I’ve been swimming a couple of times, I went to Harrogate and got myself a nice lambswool jumper and a load of buttons, and my lacemaking is getting on a bit.

 

All I really want right now is to be out on my bike, or to be curled up in the warm with someone lovely, or just in general for it to be not this week at all.