Sigh- Attic- aaaahhhhh

 

When she isn’t asleep, this little fluffy muppet enjoys playing endless games of ‘Push as many toys as possible under the sofa.’ This means at some point she will run out of toys, and sit staring at me until I fish them out for her. Or, if staring doesn’t work, she starts nibbling on the sofa covers which, thank goodness, are velvet and therefore resistant to puppy nibbling. But still, I don’t want her nibbling the sofas, so I scrabble around on the floor with my extendable feather duster and rescue all the toys so she can start the process all over again. Puppy 1 - Human 0.

Some particularly rigorous rounds of toy rescuing on Saturday morning meant that by Saturday afternoon I felt the first twinges of a bout of sciatica on the horizon, and by Sunday morning I was hobbling around like a 103 year old, and a tired one at that, because when sciatica strikes, one does not know how to get comfy in bed and one ends up spending all night trying to create the best arrangement of assorted pillows to achieve maximum comfort and minimum pain. 

Well, tough, I’m going to continue. Please feel free to leave the blog, though. Go and make a cup of tea, if you will. Or sort out your correspondence. I’ll see you at the end. 

I’ve been here before. What annoys me most is that if I do regular Pilates exercises, I don’t get sciatica. And when I haven’t had an attack for several months I think, ‘Marvellous!’ and regular Pilates exercise takes a back seat to more exciting things like reading a novel in one sitting. And then sciatica comes back because I’m lax with the Pilates. This is a classic example of the Stupidity of the Human Being.

Ah well, nothing like a back to square one moment, eh? So I’m dealing with the agony and reduced mobility by a) not chopping off my leg (despite the temptation) and instead b) administering unto myself a series of mini-Pilates exercises/other stretches during the day, along with walking around with a hot water bottle down my pants and making sure I keep moving, and when I do sit down, maintaining a wide-legged stance and a straight backed posture because sorting out sciatica is all about opening up your hips, darling!

Pain relief is a grey area, and we all know how I feel about grey. Paracetamol is ineffective. I can’t take anything ending in ‘-fen’ because I am allergic, so Neurofen, Ibuprofen etc etc are not an option. Which leaves the opiates. I’m fine with codeine, having taken it a couple of times previously in my life, but I’d rather not go down that road, if it’s all the same to you. So I am employing deep-breathing, visualisation, energy healing,  meditation and swearing. Oh, and drinking lots of water which is my cure all for everything. It’s a fair combination thus far. 

According to the NHS website, sciatica usually rights itself within four to six weeks. Four to six weeks?? I don’t have time to faff around waiting for that sort of timescale. Four to six days more like. But then maybe my experiences of sciatica are very mild. Sheesh, I bloomin’ well hope so. I can’t be doing with lack of sleep for another 4 weeks. I’ve just had a puppy, for chuff’s sake! Anyway, I am grateful I don’t have to go out to work and Andy has low expectations of what ends up on the dinner table when I am incapacitated. Although I did make a rather lovely bubble and squeak this evening, thank you very much! 

It’s been a lovely sunny day today. If one is going to hobble around a garden exercising one’s puppy whilst sciatica-ridden, then rather it is done in the sunshine than in the rain. Because sciatica and rain would be very grim. And that’s all I have to say on the subject. You can come back now.