Now there's an old saying that a week is a long time in politics. First coined I believe by that good old boy Harold Wilson. Never seen without his pipe of course.
Now tell me, when was the last time you saw anyone smoking a pipe? I bet you can't, because people just don't do it anymore do they?
I think it's rather a shame.
Of course I know it's totally unhealthy, but it can be such a good look! And the smell of pipe tobacco is really rather good.
Hang on I can hear the rumblings of discontent...well check this out!!
Yes!!! Look at that baby!!!
You can always rely on Robert Downey Jr to push things to the absolute max and that is a corker!
Now I know what you're thinking, this is not one for the ladies...but maybe it's time to think again...
And a pipe can make you more intelligent. Fact.
Hmm I think I know what to put on my Christmas list!
Anyway I digress...so where were we. Oh yes, well if a week is a long time in politics I would argue that it's even longer in ADR.
It's hard to think that it was only this time last week that I was going down to the operating theatre, not really sure what the future held, not really daring to hope that things could get better (ah there's another pound in the kitty for Poundland).
But here I am a week later and my dodgy disc, beautifully referred to as wet cardboard by my surgeon, is gone forever and I have a sparkly new M6-L nestling deep inside me.
So is too early to dream, to dream that wonderful dream, of being able to jump, climb, run, row, dance or lift suitcases?
Yes it may sound trivial, but one of the things I look forward most of all to being able to do is lift suitcases. Ever since my problem started when we go on holiday I have to leave all the lifting to my long suffering wife and daughters. It's particularly embarrassing at check in at the airport because there they are heaving these heavy cases onto the conveyor belt and all I can do is stand by nonchalantly and watch. I can feel the eyes of the check in assistant boring into me and I know she's thinking..."you complete bastard". I wish I could wear a sign round my neck which says, "I've got a bad back, I'm not allowed to carry them! Honestly!"
And then it doesn't end there. I can guarantee that when we get on the plane I'll be standing next to somebody who needs a hand getting their case into the over head locker. Ah there she is now...
So he or she will turn round and ask me if I can help and I'll have to say apologetically but firmly, no. I have a bad back you see. And they look me up and down and....uh oh, here comes that look again "you complete bastard!".
You see bad backs aren't obvious. In fact quite the opposite you look perfectly normal most of the time. So people assume you should be able to do the things that 'normal' people do. And god do we wish that we could. In fact we dream of being able to lift suitcases. Well I do.
And then when it comes to sitting down on the plane I open up my cabin bag (the lightest one I could possible find of course) and pull out....yes you've guessed it...my cushion! Yes my trusty cushion not only used to go everywhere with me at home but it was even an international traveller. And the people in the row behind me see me getting my cushion out and I hope that they immediately think to themselves...of course, he must have a bad back? Hah! Do they hell as like! No, they think...hmm he must have piles.
But a week is a long time in ADR and I don't have a bad back anymore. Just you wait and see.
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