Accidents Are Never Accidents
Without Prejudice
Someone on high is playing a big practical joke on me, just in the last two weeks. And it had better stop. Two weeks ago I decided to move a heavy wooden table by myself as I wanted to block the new German Sheperd pup from down the side of my unit. I am / was impatient and I either have to learn this lesson or put up with the consequences.
To Slow Down!
I moved the table myself as I could not wait for the males in the house to help me. Stupid, stupid, stupid as I did a muscle in my back and inflamed an old back injury. So for the past week it's been triple strength deep heat, Panadol, ow ow ow, every time I get in the car or out of it and whinge, groan, moan every time I get out of a chair.
So instead of whining I was very proactive and finally went to the Doctors, today. I hate doctors, hospitals, needles, blood, and medications make me break out in a small sweat. I also had a nagging cough, sniffles, hot sweats from deciding, myself to go off HRT and getting a thousand hot flushes a day. Headaches came with the withdrawal, I woke every morning to a knocking head. I do these stupid things, regularly.
So....
I finally dragged myself to the doctors with my sore back and as I expected it was a nasty muscle sprain, my chest was clear, obviously the nagging cough was a figment of my imagination, but I had realised it was bronchial, so began taking that vile cough medicine that is the only thing that works.
All the nice stuff that tastes great does not work on Bronchitis it just has to be the stuff that tastes so bad, you have to hold your nose, pretend its butterscotch, toss it down like a shot of Tequila, drink a pint of water and still shudder for two minutes.
The kindly lady doctor put me back on the HRT, and as there is a pharmacy next to the Doctors, went in there, as the thought of driving to the Wholesale Chemist, miles away to save 5.00 was not appealing. Also the wholesale place takes ages to be served, seems filthy dirty and full of sick people and has an armed guard outside.
I know my local chemist, Jason, and he's a small business and I'd rather give him the business as he always rags on me, he rags on everyone and hus banter is good. Witty.He's from Hong Kong and tells it like it is with a hyena like laugh that makes you smile, anyway. A man and a woman were there, the man in a seat, the women attending to him. I politely stood aside and waited.
The man was on crutches that lay to the sides of the chair in repose. He looked terrible, face grey with pain, his wife clutching a full fist of paperwork. I surveyed the shelves as I waited, and Jason the chemist sidled up next to me, a tiny Peter Lorre of a man, his voice lowered and he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
" What can I help you with, darling ? "
I looked at him hunched as he was to my left, almost rubbing his hands together in a Uriah Heap motion. I looked around at the man and woman and asked if they were ok about me going first and they mumbled something so I handed over my scripts. Jason was animated and talkative at the back of the shop as he made up my scripts.
I talked to the couple in the shop, and turned out the man had a sore back and was given the wrong needle and was now in agony. I could see it in the sweat in his upper lip and brow. I thought what a poor man, in worse pain than me, he was on crutches, I was still walking in a hobble step but still moving. I touched his forehead with my fingers, he was burning up and patted his arm.
He was almost in tears from the agony he was going through. I said I hoped he was better soon and crossed to my car a little more upright than I had been before. I felt bad I was moaning about a
muscle sprain and the man was far worse than I. So trying hard to be virtuous and brave I went home, everyone was outside, four cars, mud, boys revving commodores. Yvette asked me to keep an eye on the little boys, Acer and Cruz while they all went out for 10 minutes.
Sure, says I, hobbled inside, looking forward to my brand new shiny box of Nurofen, that the Doctor said helped muscle sprain far better than my ordinary Panadol. Boys were fine, I automatically started picking them up and chatting to them. But rapidly put them down as I felt the old twinge in my back.
The phone rang and I raced to pick it up, before the boys grabbed it and I just knew this was going to happen. I had worn shoes with the teensiest tiniest heel imaginable and I had looked in vain everywhere for my comfy old loafers. Finally spotted them in the car as I returned from the doctors, didnt listen to my instincts and change my shoes, oh no, not me.
So as I raced towards the phone I felt the tiny minuscule heel slide on the floor, wrenched my foot to the side, ow ow ow, that really hurts, no big deal, blah blah. I am now sitting here with a leg brace on my left foot as I am in agony with my ankle.
I still have the muscle pain above my right buttock, at least now I am balanced. crippled on both sides, the Nurofen are not working and cost me $12.00 and I now feel what that man was going through at the chemist and I will put out a call for a nice devoted partner that can answer my door and fetch me a cup of tea. Yeah, that will happen.
Rather grumpily yours,
Janette
Someone on high is playing a big practical joke on me, just in the last two weeks. And it had better stop. Two weeks ago I decided to move a heavy wooden table by myself as I wanted to block the new German Sheperd pup from down the side of my unit. I am / was impatient and I either have to learn this lesson or put up with the consequences.
To Slow Down!
I moved the table myself as I could not wait for the males in the house to help me. Stupid, stupid, stupid as I did a muscle in my back and inflamed an old back injury. So for the past week it's been triple strength deep heat, Panadol, ow ow ow, every time I get in the car or out of it and whinge, groan, moan every time I get out of a chair.
So instead of whining I was very proactive and finally went to the Doctors, today. I hate doctors, hospitals, needles, blood, and medications make me break out in a small sweat. I also had a nagging cough, sniffles, hot sweats from deciding, myself to go off HRT and getting a thousand hot flushes a day. Headaches came with the withdrawal, I woke every morning to a knocking head. I do these stupid things, regularly.
So....
I finally dragged myself to the doctors with my sore back and as I expected it was a nasty muscle sprain, my chest was clear, obviously the nagging cough was a figment of my imagination, but I had realised it was bronchial, so began taking that vile cough medicine that is the only thing that works.
All the nice stuff that tastes great does not work on Bronchitis it just has to be the stuff that tastes so bad, you have to hold your nose, pretend its butterscotch, toss it down like a shot of Tequila, drink a pint of water and still shudder for two minutes.
The kindly lady doctor put me back on the HRT, and as there is a pharmacy next to the Doctors, went in there, as the thought of driving to the Wholesale Chemist, miles away to save 5.00 was not appealing. Also the wholesale place takes ages to be served, seems filthy dirty and full of sick people and has an armed guard outside.
I know my local chemist, Jason, and he's a small business and I'd rather give him the business as he always rags on me, he rags on everyone and hus banter is good. Witty.He's from Hong Kong and tells it like it is with a hyena like laugh that makes you smile, anyway. A man and a woman were there, the man in a seat, the women attending to him. I politely stood aside and waited.
The man was on crutches that lay to the sides of the chair in repose. He looked terrible, face grey with pain, his wife clutching a full fist of paperwork. I surveyed the shelves as I waited, and Jason the chemist sidled up next to me, a tiny Peter Lorre of a man, his voice lowered and he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
" What can I help you with, darling ? "
I looked at him hunched as he was to my left, almost rubbing his hands together in a Uriah Heap motion. I looked around at the man and woman and asked if they were ok about me going first and they mumbled something so I handed over my scripts. Jason was animated and talkative at the back of the shop as he made up my scripts.
I talked to the couple in the shop, and turned out the man had a sore back and was given the wrong needle and was now in agony. I could see it in the sweat in his upper lip and brow. I thought what a poor man, in worse pain than me, he was on crutches, I was still walking in a hobble step but still moving. I touched his forehead with my fingers, he was burning up and patted his arm.
He was almost in tears from the agony he was going through. I said I hoped he was better soon and crossed to my car a little more upright than I had been before. I felt bad I was moaning about a
muscle sprain and the man was far worse than I. So trying hard to be virtuous and brave I went home, everyone was outside, four cars, mud, boys revving commodores. Yvette asked me to keep an eye on the little boys, Acer and Cruz while they all went out for 10 minutes.
Sure, says I, hobbled inside, looking forward to my brand new shiny box of Nurofen, that the Doctor said helped muscle sprain far better than my ordinary Panadol. Boys were fine, I automatically started picking them up and chatting to them. But rapidly put them down as I felt the old twinge in my back.
The phone rang and I raced to pick it up, before the boys grabbed it and I just knew this was going to happen. I had worn shoes with the teensiest tiniest heel imaginable and I had looked in vain everywhere for my comfy old loafers. Finally spotted them in the car as I returned from the doctors, didnt listen to my instincts and change my shoes, oh no, not me.
So as I raced towards the phone I felt the tiny minuscule heel slide on the floor, wrenched my foot to the side, ow ow ow, that really hurts, no big deal, blah blah. I am now sitting here with a leg brace on my left foot as I am in agony with my ankle.
I still have the muscle pain above my right buttock, at least now I am balanced. crippled on both sides, the Nurofen are not working and cost me $12.00 and I now feel what that man was going through at the chemist and I will put out a call for a nice devoted partner that can answer my door and fetch me a cup of tea. Yeah, that will happen.
Rather grumpily yours,
Janette
