Backing Down…

I don’t know what I’ve done but it’s obviously been a stretch too far. I have a sore back. I can walk (gingerly)but find it excruciatingly painful to sit down, stand up, laugh, cough or sneeze. I’ve had to cancel two engagements  – one involving my weekly lunch date with ‘The Danglers’ –  so called because we were all partial to dangling earrings. This little club was founded about fourteen years ago and there have been changes over time. There are many other parts of us now ‘dangling’ so the name is still relevant! 

I have made an obstacle course for myself. There are items which I have inadvertantly dropped which will remain on the floor till The Christmas Fairy flies over again from next door – she’s already been over to feed me breakfast /tidy up/blether and has now left me to my own devices. I thought I would watch tele but having dropped the remote I decided to ‘footer’. This came to an abrupt halt when the ‘phone rang ( My sister Sheila ). I knew this would be a lengthy call so I SAAAAAAAHT!!!down. She was on to see how I was. Her youngest daughter is presently having a very tough time dealing with chemotherapy. While Sheila was down visiting her daughter last weekend, she herself had a bad fall. She is also dealing with other health problems – and calls to find out how I am. One of our ‘dangling’ number suffers from Motor Neuron Disease. She sympathises with my predicament and urges me to ‘take care’.(Don’t I feel a right fraud!!)

I get UUUUUUP!!! from the chair intent on reading the mail. I can’t – it’s on the floor. I decide to blog. I lower myself onto the  OYAH!! OYAH!! chair and reckon I can stay in this position for a while. The external doorbell screeches. I prise myself out of the OYAH!! OYAH!! chair and and lurch towards the button that releases the outside lock. The indoor bell rings….. a forty five degree turn and I am gallopping pell-mell towards the door at no speed at all. A half drowned Amazonian(!) delivery guy hands over a parcel.

‘Sorry I took so long,’ I began, ‘it’s my back…..’ He looks at me dispassionately, water dripping from the end of his nose (I hoped his shoes weren’t ‘admission’). I could tell what he was thinking and I think you, dear reader, can well imagine too…… 


Gladly my little cross I’d bear (!)

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