I am a horrible person. I am a horrible horrible person. I became irritated at The Husband’s moaning about his bad back, and made sure he knew just how I was feeling. I wouldn’t say I was unsympathetic, it’s just, well, yeah I was pretty unsympathetic. I think I told him a few times to just get on with it. I know I know. You’d think I’d have felt bad sooner, caught myself being mean. But no. It wasn’t until I was into week four of sciatica and really struggling myself with pain that i found myself having a pity party. I was totally eating my words. At that moment I got it that sometimes, when we’re stuck in t a crappy situation, all we can do is have a bit of a moan. And I took that away from The Husband – it’s not quite the same having a good moan when you’re being reprimanded for having a moan, right? Like i said. I am a horrible person.
But hopefully you’ll soon feel sorry for me enough to momentarily forget how horrible I am.
I went into work on Friday and lasted all of half an hour. I couldn’t bend and I couldn’t sit, so it’s pretty hard looking after a load of two year olds. I was sent home with a hug and I spent the next hour crying lots of frustrated tears. I knew I was seing the NHS orthopaedic department in a couple of weeks but I needed to see someone sooner. After a phonecall I wangled an appointment that day with a private surgery. That isn’t the part you’re supposed to feel sorry for me. Trust me, you’ll know.
I breathed a sigh of relief as we drove past the surgery and I saw a ladies name on the sign. If I had a problem with my neck I wouldn’t have given it second thought. I don’t have some wierd phobia of men. But you need to remember that my pain is at the bottom of my back and down my legs……And all around my bum. In situations such as these a female consultant will always be preferable. As soon as I walked in my name was called. And it was not a lady waiting to see me. It was a young guy. Man alive. He bombarded me with a load of questions and then stood up, passed me a gown and asked me to take off my trousers and top, leaving the gown open at the back. Man alive. It was at this point, two realisations came crashing into my mind.
1. A practical downside to having back pain is not being abe to shave your legs. I don’t need to say any more.
2. I was relieved that I was not wearing any ridiculous fancy underwear. I mean the only thing that would be more mortifying than that would be being caught in your dowdy old maternity knickers. Oh yes.
Are you feeling sorry for me yet? You blooming well should be. I have an appointment for monday. I’ll be calling first thing and making sure it’s a lady this time.