Day 116
I have a problem.
Well, two to be exact.
Tomorrow I must collect my brother-in-law from the airport after a business trip to the Philippines. This will entail leaving for Heathrow at about mid-day and hoping that the travel chaos hasn’t migrated from Terminal Five to the rest of the complex.
However, the first problem in an otherwise simple endeavor concerns the sleep I will get prior to the journey, or rather the lack of it. In addition to the normal Mrs. Snowman snoring sonata the second issue relates to the state of my back, which hasn’t improved one iota over the past twenty-four hours.
This was fairly obvious this morning when Mrs. Snowman got up for work, wandered downstairs to get her breakfast and found me sat on the sofa with a pained look across my face.
During the night I’d shuffled in considerable pain to the living room looking like a cross between Yoda and Frankenstein’s monster, planted myself in front of the television with the laptop and spent a couple of hours surfing the net and tapping out a few words for this diary.
I discovered about half an hour after I sat down that I couldn’t get back up again.
My back had decided it wasn’t going to co-operate with my brain and had fixed itself into a completely solid position.
When I lifted my legs and moved forward, my back rocked forward with it at a right-angle. I looked like one of those little decorative wooden woodpeckers you find on garden bird-feeders. I could either fall all the way forward and then try to get up the stairs like a four-legged crab with my arse stuck up in the air or wait for the wife to come down and help me up.
It’s disconcerting to know that my Dear Lady hardly raises a smile at Eddie Murphy or Billy Connolly but found my situation absolutely hilarious.
After a great deal of squealing and swearing, I managed to get to the bedroom using the wife as a walking aid and went to sleep for a couple of hours with my legs making a tent shape out of the quilt.
She did show me a tiny gesture of kindness by bringing the computer to the bedroom prior to leaving for work although when I woke up I found it was slightly out of reach by leaning across the bed.
It took me ten minutes of painful choreography to get the thing.
Figuring I should make the most of it, I found a few websites offering all sorts of useful advice on back pain. Some were quite clearly compiled by lunatics of the highest order whilst others seemed to be from respected medical professionals. I picked one and started to practice some of the mild exercises to get me back on my feet.
Although it still hurts, by the end of the day I think there was a slight improvement. This may have been psychosomatic and had more to do with another site that pointed out alcohol is a muscle relaxant. I shall put this to the test on the weekend as I intend to get very relaxed indeed.
Relaxed out of my mind in fact.
While lying on my sickbed, I played two poker games. Both were $1.10 tournaments and…I made the money in them both! In total it amounted to just over five hours of hard graft, avoiding donkeys and gradually building my stack until a financial reward was assured.
And my winnings for such work?
34 cents…from both games…combined.
The last time I was this pleased with myself was when I remembered to put the toilet seat down after drinking half a bottle of Southern Comfort. Only when I woke up the following day did I realize I hadn’t finished my pee when I did it.
And so, as I slide into another bottle of Southern Comfort and listen to the sounds of another day drifting into history (puking Child, moaning daughter, farting mother-in-law), I contemplate tomorrow’s journey.
There is another plan that is worthy of consideration.
If I offer to take Surrogate Daughter and Small Child along for the ride and drop them off at Terminal Five, there is a high probability they could get mixed up with the luggage and spend a couple of months stuck in a warehouse before anyone notices the mistake.
Oh to dream…
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $4.38
Well, two to be exact.
Tomorrow I must collect my brother-in-law from the airport after a business trip to the Philippines. This will entail leaving for Heathrow at about mid-day and hoping that the travel chaos hasn’t migrated from Terminal Five to the rest of the complex.
However, the first problem in an otherwise simple endeavor concerns the sleep I will get prior to the journey, or rather the lack of it. In addition to the normal Mrs. Snowman snoring sonata the second issue relates to the state of my back, which hasn’t improved one iota over the past twenty-four hours.
This was fairly obvious this morning when Mrs. Snowman got up for work, wandered downstairs to get her breakfast and found me sat on the sofa with a pained look across my face.
During the night I’d shuffled in considerable pain to the living room looking like a cross between Yoda and Frankenstein’s monster, planted myself in front of the television with the laptop and spent a couple of hours surfing the net and tapping out a few words for this diary.
I discovered about half an hour after I sat down that I couldn’t get back up again.
My back had decided it wasn’t going to co-operate with my brain and had fixed itself into a completely solid position.
When I lifted my legs and moved forward, my back rocked forward with it at a right-angle. I looked like one of those little decorative wooden woodpeckers you find on garden bird-feeders. I could either fall all the way forward and then try to get up the stairs like a four-legged crab with my arse stuck up in the air or wait for the wife to come down and help me up.
It’s disconcerting to know that my Dear Lady hardly raises a smile at Eddie Murphy or Billy Connolly but found my situation absolutely hilarious.
After a great deal of squealing and swearing, I managed to get to the bedroom using the wife as a walking aid and went to sleep for a couple of hours with my legs making a tent shape out of the quilt.
She did show me a tiny gesture of kindness by bringing the computer to the bedroom prior to leaving for work although when I woke up I found it was slightly out of reach by leaning across the bed.
It took me ten minutes of painful choreography to get the thing.
Figuring I should make the most of it, I found a few websites offering all sorts of useful advice on back pain. Some were quite clearly compiled by lunatics of the highest order whilst others seemed to be from respected medical professionals. I picked one and started to practice some of the mild exercises to get me back on my feet.
Although it still hurts, by the end of the day I think there was a slight improvement. This may have been psychosomatic and had more to do with another site that pointed out alcohol is a muscle relaxant. I shall put this to the test on the weekend as I intend to get very relaxed indeed.
Relaxed out of my mind in fact.
While lying on my sickbed, I played two poker games. Both were $1.10 tournaments and…I made the money in them both! In total it amounted to just over five hours of hard graft, avoiding donkeys and gradually building my stack until a financial reward was assured.
And my winnings for such work?
34 cents…from both games…combined.
The last time I was this pleased with myself was when I remembered to put the toilet seat down after drinking half a bottle of Southern Comfort. Only when I woke up the following day did I realize I hadn’t finished my pee when I did it.
And so, as I slide into another bottle of Southern Comfort and listen to the sounds of another day drifting into history (puking Child, moaning daughter, farting mother-in-law), I contemplate tomorrow’s journey.
There is another plan that is worthy of consideration.
If I offer to take Surrogate Daughter and Small Child along for the ride and drop them off at Terminal Five, there is a high probability they could get mixed up with the luggage and spend a couple of months stuck in a warehouse before anyone notices the mistake.
Oh to dream…
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $4.38