Sunday, February 24, 2008



My first day back in the flat didn't exactly go to plan. It's only now I feel sort of OK to get anywhere near the PC.

There's no mincing words here, this is painful. It's not the hip itself, to my astonishment the constant grinding pain I've had for the last 4 years has gone........ sorry, just reading that, and feeling that has me almost in tears...... pull yourself together man!... its the muscles... and not just the ones in my leg. My entire center region, back, and right leg is murder as I'm compensating for being partially turned inside out. My left thigh with its two large drain holes and foot long incision isn't exactly in party mood either, but that should have calmed down within a few weeks.

So, after getting rather frustrated last night with pain, things being outta reach, other things getting in the way I managed to lob several items around the room before limping very slowly to bed where I spent the next 3 or so hours asleep. Unfortunately, the dreaded night sweats made short work of any sleep and I ended up back in the living room feeling useless, tired and awake again...... but as a better man than me once said.... "and the sun that beats on the window, in the morning, is a doorway"**

Another reason, which I knew was coming but has been conveniently ignored by the medical people (I'm not apportioning blame here, it was all my own doing) is the withdrawal from my one time saviour Tramadol. Having JUST stopped reading some reports of prolonged use of Tramadol and subsequent withdrawal symptoms I think a trip to the Doc is advised sooner rather than later..... Night sweats, joint pain, sleeplessness, depression, mood swings, rapid beard growth and speaking in tongues have been reported.


This all could look like I'm already after another debilitating excuse not to get myself pulled round. Maybe it is, but I'm not clinically qualified to interpret my ID, or even to remember where I saw it last.

So, in good old Dawson fashion I'll retreat to my old reliables who have helped deal with the mental assault courses I've ran in the past...... Mr Hunt, Mr Scobie and Mr Adamson, stage right if you please.

All that..... I'll be fine once I've had a Kebab.


** Stuart Adamson, Big Country, "Seven Waves Away"

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hey our kid,
I know things are a bit shite right now to say the least, just think of the future.....I wish we could go to a gig you could dance lkie Ian Curtis....speaking of which Joy Division are on my decks this week...go on Dave fire up the Napster....dont be a great soft,sissy,girly,nancy,french,bender,sunderland A.F.C supporting puff...Goober

Anonymous said...

Oh and PS get well soon .....Goober.

Scree said...

Mr D - good to know your back to the flat, glad the op went well although I did speak to John just afterwards. I can't image the next 2/3 weeks will be pleasant but just think of the pain-free existance now just a few weeks away!

Russ said...

Hey Double D. In your time of trouble may I recommend the Blog of Old Man Rich. Not only does he have the good taste to drink in the same boozer as I, his ruminations on Frog Orgies and MP's mental capacities are quite entertaining.

Get well soon and all that

Russ

PS Goober, it's too late, he's already a great, soft, cissy Sunderland AFC supporting puff ;-)) I thank you...

Anonymous said...

Oh my gosh, this sounds just horrible. You need a punching bag, and some eye candy bringing you chicken soup. I'm thinking about you.