Suffering a hideous bout of sciatica, aren’t I? Sheesh but it’s taking my breath away. At least, I am 99% certain it to be sciatica. Andy the Vet has examined me and accounted for my symptoms and believes it to be true, also. That’s good enough for me. It started last weekend and is, I think, the result of spending a lot of time balanced on a bar stool in the kitchen listening to my friend chatting away and twisting my back ever so slightly in her direction in order to engage properly in the conversational body language etiquette and not make it look like we were two random strangers sitting next to each other and holding two unrelated conversations.
Anyway, it’s not been a great week on the body front, but it does strengthen my resolve to work on my health and fitness even more now that I am approaching birthday number 54 and cannot get away with still thinking I am thirty something. The brain might be fooled, but the body has other ideas and I think times like this are a whimper for assistance. Carrying less fat around will help lessen a reoccurrence of sciatica, yes? Ditto doing more core strength exercises. I’ve consulted the NHS website for information and treatment and have thus been trying to a) keep mobile b) do the suggested exercises which bear a remarkable resemblance to Pilates (Note To Self : get back to regular Pilates classes) and c) walk around with a hot water bottle down the back of my trousers. Actually, I am rather proud I CAN fit a hot water bottle down the back of my trousers! Silver lining, and all that. (My trousers do NOT have silver linings; let’s not get involved in silly segues, eh?)
Paracetamol wasn’t really helping and I can’t take anti-inflammatories like nurofen unless I want the associated all over body rash and vomiting. So yesterday I succumbed to co-codamol which I don’t really like taking because it makes me feel muzzy and there are side effect risks of constipation and dependency. The last time I took it was about 10 years ago for toothache. For a week. That was more than enough. I get very anxious about popping pills, which is daft, I know. But there it is. That’s me. Heaven knows what would happen if I needed medicating on a regular basis. Andy would have to wrap me in a towel, get me in a headlock and shoot them down my throat with a blow pipe. Let’s hope it never comes to that.
So I’ve decided to continue with stretching exercises, hottie bottles and gentle bouts of walking around the garden. And maybe a dose of co-codamol just before bedtime because the muzziness sends me to sleep.
This is ACTUALLY me! Well, me when I had a short brunette bob and weighed 3 stones more than I do now.
I’ve been trying to distract my mind, too, by doing some studying. Oh yes, dear reader - for next February I am going back to college! I am very excited by the thought of this and have FLUNG myself into studenty-type activities including visiting the library, acquiring relevant books and magazines and buying up most of the half price notebooks on sale in Morrisons this week. After testing out a variety of possibilities - celebrant, artisan crafter, tea shop owner, trapeze artist, armadillo juggler - I have decided to train to be a counsellor. It feels very right. I think it will prove to be an interesting and fulfilling career move.
And the new series of ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ starts tonight! I might be ‘ouching’ and ‘eeeeeking’ my way around at the moment, but I bet I could manage a small samba roll if I tried.
Anyway, it’s not been a great week on the body front, but it does strengthen my resolve to work on my health and fitness even more now that I am approaching birthday number 54 and cannot get away with still thinking I am thirty something. The brain might be fooled, but the body has other ideas and I think times like this are a whimper for assistance. Carrying less fat around will help lessen a reoccurrence of sciatica, yes? Ditto doing more core strength exercises. I’ve consulted the NHS website for information and treatment and have thus been trying to a) keep mobile b) do the suggested exercises which bear a remarkable resemblance to Pilates (Note To Self : get back to regular Pilates classes) and c) walk around with a hot water bottle down the back of my trousers. Actually, I am rather proud I CAN fit a hot water bottle down the back of my trousers! Silver lining, and all that. (My trousers do NOT have silver linings; let’s not get involved in silly segues, eh?)
Paracetamol wasn’t really helping and I can’t take anti-inflammatories like nurofen unless I want the associated all over body rash and vomiting. So yesterday I succumbed to co-codamol which I don’t really like taking because it makes me feel muzzy and there are side effect risks of constipation and dependency. The last time I took it was about 10 years ago for toothache. For a week. That was more than enough. I get very anxious about popping pills, which is daft, I know. But there it is. That’s me. Heaven knows what would happen if I needed medicating on a regular basis. Andy would have to wrap me in a towel, get me in a headlock and shoot them down my throat with a blow pipe. Let’s hope it never comes to that.
So I’ve decided to continue with stretching exercises, hottie bottles and gentle bouts of walking around the garden. And maybe a dose of co-codamol just before bedtime because the muzziness sends me to sleep.
I’ve been trying to distract my mind, too, by doing some studying. Oh yes, dear reader - for next February I am going back to college! I am very excited by the thought of this and have FLUNG myself into studenty-type activities including visiting the library, acquiring relevant books and magazines and buying up most of the half price notebooks on sale in Morrisons this week. After testing out a variety of possibilities - celebrant, artisan crafter, tea shop owner, trapeze artist, armadillo juggler - I have decided to train to be a counsellor. It feels very right. I think it will prove to be an interesting and fulfilling career move.
And the new series of ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ starts tonight! I might be ‘ouching’ and ‘eeeeeking’ my way around at the moment, but I bet I could manage a small samba roll if I tried.
Comments
When I last injured my back I did find that hanging upside down, or as near as I could get to it, did actually help. Don't rule out the trapeze artist training just yet.