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Back, again

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There are a lot of important things happening in the world right now.

But you’re probably fed up hearing about the BBC being in crisis, Police and Crime Commissioner elections, and whose eating what in a jungle.

I think I may be able to help here, by being significantly selfish, and updating you on the status of my dodgy back. I knew you’d be thrilled. The numerous message of support (back support?) showed how much you were all enthralled by my previous column regarding my spinal woes back in August.

Back(!) then I’d had my first encounter with my physiotherapist , the Ginger James Blunt, and over the ensuing 10 sessions, my exercise routine has changed significantly, but stayed well within the interesting area that can best be summed up as “Oo-er – that looks a bit rude!”.
I have also spent some time looking like a particularly rubbish hedgehog, whilst undergoing acupuncture. I think it was pretty clear that it had hit the spot when I involuntarily kicked an innocent pillow into the next ward.

Whilst resembling the cheese-and-pineapple-on- cocktail-sticks party snacks of the 1970’s, I was able to contemplate some of the important things in life, such as:
  • I thought this wasn’t supposed to hurt?
  • When was the last time they decorated in here?
  • I wish I hadn’t worn the Homer Simpson boxer shorts.
  • I hope I put enough money in the car park machine...
  • If the world gets taken over by Aliens whilst I’m in here, can I actually reach to extract the needles without blubbing like a baby, or falling off the bench?
  • If I drink water afterwards, will I leak like a sprinkler?
  • Did someone just come in the cubicle?!
The whole back-pain saga has been a bit like being the parent of a small child. I’ve had to make it a bottle (of the hot water variety), be careful not to over-excite it, and put up with it being gripey if I ignore it for too long.

Happily, whilst not entirely fixed, it is much improved, so this week I had my final appointment. Much like a flat battery, I’ve now been discharged.

The exercises, hot water bottle treatment, and generally looking like a bit of a pillock in the privacy of my own home, will continue, as otherwise I’ll return to being the same hunchbacked, grim-faced, pain-addled, miserable git that I was before. I’m pretty sure no-one has actually noticed any difference in that department though... I’ve got plenty of other things I need to be grumpy, angry and generally miserable about as well.

Now, what about the tinnitus, aching hip, toothache, failing eyesight, encroaching baldness, and general sense of doom? On the bright side, I’ve got enough material to fill a newspaper column for the next few years, if you’re interested.

Hello? Where did everybody go? And where did that tumbleweed come from..?

Have a spinally acceptable weekend.

If you can.

This post first appeared in my 'Thank grumpy it's Friday' column in the North West Evening Mail on Friday 16th November 2012. This is the unedited version - you can view the printed/online version here The paper retitled this one as "Let's get back on the subject of a bad back". A bit literal, I thought, but hey - it's their paper!
 
Even though I came in at under their required word count again this week, 92 words vanished somewhere along the line. They're all here now, though. One significant letter got added too - an 's'. This showed up at the end of the word 'message' in the line 'numerous message of support' which was actually a joke. But maybe a bit too subtle for the Sub Ed...
 
(Still meandering through the Mike Oldfield CDs - now up to Tubular Bells III.) 
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