I’ve done something to myself.
I don’t know what I’ve done, or how I’ve done it. But I know the consequences are that it’s fine if I’m sitting still but I have to draw breath in through my teeth if I choose to go upstairs.
I’ve, somehow, twisted in a really strange and bizarre way which means that sometimes – and that is the key word – I suffer a very painful spasm on my right-hand side.
And then sometimes I don’t.
And when I don’t, I sort of forget that I do. And then I do. And I remember. Oh I remember.
And the breath comes in through the teeth.
I don’t even know when I did it, to be honest. I know that I went to go downstairs and collect a team at work yesterday and it hurt a lot. So much that I probably answered the door with tears in my eyes and a very sad expression. But today, it didn’t do that.
Last night I feel asleep on the couch, by accident, and when I woke up I had to painfully drag myself up the stairs, to the loo, and then to bed. It was so painful getting into bed and rolling into position that at one point that I’m surprised I didn’t wake the street up with my stage-whispered expletives.
I woke up this morning, though, and everything seemed fine.
I came downstairs, I put washing in, I straightened up a bit, I sat, I drank coffee. Nothing. I went for a shower, still good. I went to work. Fine. I was all fine.
And then I made that noise that sounds like it has a lot of gs in it. You know the one.
But then I came home from work and made pancakes and ate pancakes. And all was fine.
And now I’m just sitting on the couch and if I turn to look to my right…