Some thoughts from the coast for you this Monday.
The school run this morning gave me reason to wonder if alcohol is really the friend that men think. For all those men that seek solace in a pint of beer I would suggest that the school run should be compulsory viewing, the same for the lads that spend their weekend chugging shots.
This is another example of the inefficiency of the state. Millions are spent on safe sex messages that have no hope of connecting with a young audience. The NHS stock piles tons of condoms but can’t ever quite work out how to give them away even though they want to. The simplest and quickest way of demonstrating the importance of birth control is to take these people on the school run. Make them stand there on a Monday morning and observe the whole experience, we don’t want them to only see the highlights after all. Then take these young men back to a classroom and place a raw leg of lamb in front of them, dressed in a T-shirt. One simple question is all that is needed “this is a pain free version of your arm, could you chew through it before she woke up?”
In other news one of my fellow travellers this morning clearly took the ‘be more dog’ advert very seriously. Sitting on a bench at the station he had a cat curled up on his lap, I thought this was odd because I have not seen any strays frequent the station. When the train arrived the traveller and his cat boarded, apparently they were having a day out! Sadly he stayed on the slow train so I wasn’t able to see how far he travelled, I would have loved to see him and the cat on the metro.
On a personal note I have had one of those weekends when I have been comfortably confident in achieving my end goal. Views of my beloved Isle have filled several hours of the weekend and reminded me that it is home. It may not be where I live right now and I may not have lived there before but the comfort and familiarity that I find in both desolate winter scenes and their golden summer alternatives is all I need to know. There are some great opportunities at the moment but I am positive I will find what I need when I am back off ‘pause’.
I may have some significant hurdles still to overcome but my Physioterrorist is right when she says that I don’t give in and I don’t listen to advice that doesn’t suit me. I may walk an awkward path that doesn’t follow straight lines but it’s my path and it leads to my goals. I will achieve because it’s what I do, after all I’m typing this with hands that shouldn’t be able to aren’t I?
I finally succumbed to the lure of Desperados on Thursday, thanks to Dave and Jo for getting me hooked. I wandered over the road to the kinkychinky or however it is spelt. I took a table outside with my beer and was entertained by a table of three women. It is one of the few advantages to being alone in a bar, you get to watch people. Have you ever watched a group of women? They have none of the social battle guys have. Men battle rounds and drinking speeds, there is none of that with girls. Having debated their way through their drinks nobody raced to get a round. They kept talking around empty glasses for a good five minutes before the drink debate started. The alpha female (yes there is such a thing) proclaimed that she would have ‘one more’ and went about persuading the others.
Mission achieved she shot off to the bar and returned with her drink. That was it, no round, no whip, just a single pint (see told you she was the alpha). They then continued to talk around the other’s empty glasses. These were young women and so I guess they didn’t have the mothers meeting history it must be some innate ability. This also have me the opportunity to practice avoiding attention, still a wonderful game. As I sat I was in casual line of sight of the alpha female but not once did I look at her. How marvellous to behold the preening and frustration that results. It just seems unnatural to a good looking girl that a clearly heterosexual man isn’t looking at her. Don’t misunderstand me, she was debating getting married and clearly had no aspirations towards a single old man but she hated not being seen. I think she already had the chastising look or comment prepared and was simply annoyed at not being able to use it. The advantage of shades is that I could see her looking over more frequently and becoming angrier that she wasn’t ‘catching’ me looking at her. Psychology is truly a marvellous thing.
I was entertained on Friday watching an elderly couple engaging in ‘married dieting’ on the train home. They had a sandwich each in a Tupperware case and when the trolley came through the man ordered two teas and “would you like some crisps dear?”. She decided on cheese and onion but the man refused on account of watching his weight. Having consumed sandwiches the fella leaned over and asked to look at the crisp packet, this obviously involved a handful of crisps. Having concluded that they were ok he proceeded to study the front of the packet whilst eating the contents. He would return them and then think of a something that meant he had to pick them back up and read the front, each time a handful went in his mouth. There are only two things on the front, the flavour and the brand, how many times do you need to read this? Having eaten all of three crisps the wife dutifully offered the now nearly empty packet back to her husband and said “you can finish these”. The reply? “Oh ok I guess some crumbs won’t hurt” It’s nice to see that even into your sixties you can play the married diet game where one partner purchases and the other consumes, good on them.
I would like to share, for all the girls that read the blog including my elusive sister, a piece of information. I shared this recently on Facebook but think it is worthy of a larger audience based on debates that I have overheard in the week. If you buy an Apple product then, quite apart from the fact that you are mad, it will be an apple product. Of you buy a BMW it will be a BMW no matter what you tell it. Buy a Sony TV and, despite your best intentions, you will never be able to race it around a horse track. If you, as a lady, find yourself with a man well quite possibly they will be a man. It really shouldn’t be a shock when you discover that your partner is just what he was when you set out to capture him. Funny old thing that, just saying…..
Several recent discussions lead me to this post. As many of you know lefty is not playing the game at the moment. Strangely, given the extent of the injuries, this is probably the worst pain that it has given me. For those interested in the mechanics of pain it is a sharp pain not an ache, I guess this is indicative of mechanical conflict.
The pain wasn’t brought on by any sudden event, no shock or overload. This doesn’t necessarily fit with the type of pain but hey maybe I missed something. I can still lift weights and perform press-ups with no problems. It is random, silly movements that trigger the pain. The pain is debilitating, its a real stab and causes me to instantly change position. It has taken a fair volume of alcohol to allow me to sleep over the pain this weekend.
So now we have established why I keep wincing and pulling funny faces we can move on to the discussion. Everyone’s first comment involves me over doing it. Let’s be clear I am doing nothing different, nothing more aggressively. There is no reason for my wrist mechanics to change. I am expecting the predicted rise in pain to be progressive not sudden. In short this is not my fault.
Having established that I am not to blame I turn to the next question. Should I inform the doctor/physio/ consultant? Well I’m sorry but the answer is an emphatic no. I don’t understand why people think this is so odd. The doctors have made it clear that they want to give up at pain so why tell them? I am no fan of giving up, that’s not how I got here after all.
For those that doubt my way think on. I would like to point out the astounding recovery and the amazed medical teams. I achieved this by ignoring medical advice and not telling them about pain. I suggest that my way is the right way, watch out Ms Nature there’s only my way.
The medical experts have always told me that if I push too hard I will end up with unusable wrists. The theory is that when you get too much movement the pain becomes unbearable and they have to fuse the bones. I am disagreeing, as I often do, with accepted medical practice. I think that they misunderstand pain and, obviously, I think I know better.
I am pushing my exercise hard, I am forcing the wrists to accept higher and higher loads. Normal movements have an associated level of pain, but its tolerable. In fact here my tattoos come in handy, as any tattooed person will tell you its not pain it’s discomfort. I also get random stabbing pains, I reach out or turn or do nothing and a shooting pain is my reward. I don’t consider this to be debilitating, more of an inconvenience. Yes it hurts, yes it disrupts what I am doing but its only fleeting. So my argument remains that only by pushing myself will I maximise recovery. I didn’t used to say ouch as much as I do now, anyone that bugged my flat or hotel room would think I was being attacked. But ouch is only a word, and pain is only a passing moment. In fact this is not bad or troublesome, this is simply my new normal.
I have no doubt that I am building a whole heap of trouble for my old age. But I am covered in tattoos and forever being asked ‘won’t they look rubbish when your really old?’ The answer, of course, is that they will only look as bad as the canvas. One shouldn’t live with an eye on the affects in old age, one should live to create memories that will fill the thigh light years.
Stubbornness has got me this far, further than anyone dreamt was possible, how far will it take me? Stick with me and we will find out if the world of medicine is cleverer than I am, or if I might just prove them wrong. After all I’m not old yet……