After
my first day of writing I hobbled to my bed after necking four paracetamol and
rubbing on half a tube of pain relief gel over my lower back. For regular
followers you will know that I was inflicted with something bulging from my
lower spine which pressed into the nerves. As it got worse the more I became
crippled.
Looking
back I think a combination of an unhealthy life style due to terrible work
related stress and the subconscious measures I took to counteract it, like
heavy drinking and excess eating of pleasure food, and thus the weight gain
attributed to this was one of the two factors which finally broke my spine’s
resilience to take any more.
The
second factor I now know was the subconscious stress I was feeling about giving
up a secure job and my career. My muscles had been slowly tightening over the
time I worked out my extended notice period. I had a constant stiff neck and
more knots in my muscles than a sailor’s rope. If I thought it could not get
worse then I have never been so wrong in my life.
I
had been seeing a Chiropractor three times a week after deciding to give the
conventional medical system a miss. Using Chiropractic care is like going on a
diet. There is no pill or procedure which will give instant relief. You may
have to go through months of hard work (the more serious the complaint the
longer it takes) before you see any beneficial effects and the first two months
are the hardest.
Tuesday
the 10th of May 2011. 01.00 am
I
awoke screaming.
My
right leg was on fire. Fires so intense it would have made Hell itself feel as
cold as the Arctic. I tried to straighten myself but even the slightest
movement sent pulsating flashes from my lower back, down my leg, to fuel the
pain that burned so terribly.
My
heart was beating so fast I thought I was having a heart attack and the sweat
started to stream down my face. At that point if a surgeon had said to me the
only way to stop this pain would be to have my leg amputated I would have
signed the consent form there and then.
In fact if I could have reached a knife I would have carved off my leg
myself.
Slowly,
very slowly I raised myself through gritted teeth that where biting down so
hard a piece of tooth came loose, but eventually after my personal fight with
the devil I was leaning my back against the head board. I knew I had to get out
of bed but this was easier said than done as just the slightest movement sent
me screeching for relief.
Slowly
I rocked from side to side until I rolled over and just like the children’s
nursery rhyme, I fell out of bed. I was now on all fours and had to stand up
and straightened my back before I could even think about getting any relief.
For
ten minutes I tried, but that final push to get me to my feet is pain I never
want to experience again, and one which women going through child birth must be
praised for, being able to handle that for hour after hour is unbelievable.
I
necked back more pain killers and used the last half of the relief gel on my
back and leg and started the slow descent down my stairs to the freezer. In
here I had an ice pack which I had just purchased and after filling the hot
water bottle I settled as best I could on the sofa. I had two pillows to
support my back and the ice pack pressed against my spine freezing the pain,
and the hot water bottle resting on my leg smoothing the tension away.
More
importantly I had the laptop on my knees and a nice cup of tea. It was now
02.30am and I started writing. By 05.00 the sun was peeping around the closed
curtains and I took a break to refreeze my ice pack and refresh my hot water
bottle. It became a routine throughout the day and before I knew what had
happened it was nine thirty at night and I had been writing for eighteen hours.
My mind was exhausted and so was I as I hobbled back to bed.
They
say God works in mysterious ways and over the next three months he worked his
painful hands over me because every night at 01.00 I would awake in screaming
pain and would end up sitting on the sofa with pillows, ice pack, hot water
bottle, cup of tea and my laptop.
In these three months 112,000 words
flew out of my imagination and my first rough draft (and it was very rough) was
complete.
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