Zap-Fizz-Ding

"I love my couch"
"I love my couch"
"I love my couch"

...which is just as well, as that's where I've been for the past three days, and where I'll stay for the next week at least.

So last Thursday I dutifully did my morning pull-ups and crunches on the hang-board in the hallway, and the niggling lower back-ache that's been pestering me on and off since last November suddenly took centre stage and began to holler angrily. Pedalling to work was not a problem but everything thereafter, including lying in bed that night, was NOT a joy. During the night, my sciatic nerve decided to join in to the chorus of pain and add some backing vocals.

By Friday morning I could only crawl, in spite of a stomach-full of painkiller drugs, and I was looking decidedly wretched by the time I slithered my pain-racked body into the physiotherapist's rooms. My right foot went on strike some time during the night and would only point down, not up, my right big toe had completely lost any capacity to lift itself, and a distressingly large patch of skin over my right foot and right lower leg seemed permanently asleep. Not great.

Physiotherapy is next to Godliness, in my books. After a quick diagnosis (herniated lumbar disc), the recommendation was a series of minutely gentle push-ups. RELIEF!!! I actually walked (limping) out of there. Without a single groan.

By order of the physio God - lay flat out like a lizard drinking for the next few days, take painkillers until your stomach rattles, and hope for the best.

So here I lie, on my comfy couch, catching up on all the nice podcasts I couldn't hitherto find enough sedentary time for listening to.

And three cheers for sick leave.