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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

Oh, for god's sake. This staying concentrated solely on one thing and not wandering off in the middle of a sentence just because something louder has distracted you from the task thing is a difficult one to master after over a month of what has basically become house arrest. Also, see previous sentence for a good indication of my state of mind. Does that make any sense whatsoever? I'm really not sure.

To summarise: At the beginning of December, My Consultant said "Lie down! You have bad prolapse! Your back might fall off! Have a large handful of drugs!" And so I did. And it was good.

And then my job people said - "We don't want you with no badly back! You go away now! Here is some euro." And so I did. And that was quite nice too.

And now My Surgeon says "Don't lie down! Stand up! Walk! Swim! - but don't jump. No jumping or running, because your back might fall off. Have a large needle right in the spine!" And so I will. The Wednesday after next.

My Surgeon is a very very young man, who works in a private hospital in Dublin. My Surgeon is very very young - a little too young - and hip enough to be net savvy, so I will not be mentioning his name or the name of the hospital, cos that would lead to hilarious consequences when he has power over me with his local anesthetic. My Surgeon says that the prolapse is probably not the thing causing me the pain. My Surgeon says that the prolapse is not a problem at all really, so long as it does not prolapse any further, but stressed again that it may well do that at any time, which could cause all kinds of numbness and loss of bladder control, both of which you'll agree are things best kept only to the occasional lost weekend. My Surgeon says that what I have is Degenerative Disc Disease (which is a name I just made up because it has good alliteration) and that the cause is genetic (or 'genital' as me and my mother kept telling each other wrongly). It is caused by my very genes, and my parents will never hear the end of it.

The Wednesday after next I will be going to hospital, where My Surgeon will be giving me a local anaesthetic and then sticking a needle full of steroid straight in to my spinal fluids in order to take away some pain. Side effects of this proceedure include loss of use of the legs and intense screaming headaches and there is no garauntee that it will work at all. In order to help me through this, my parents are going away on holiday for five weeks starting tomorrow. I am left in the capable care of two labradors, two cats and my recently returned brother, who seems to hate me.

Today, I am feeling a funny variation of flippant and terrified. And also, My Surgeon says that I can't take any more valium because "after two weeks" it becomes habit forming. I have been taking it since the 10th of December.

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