A few days ago I hurt my back while lifting a rocking chair I had made out of sticks. As I was lifting it I remember thinking to myself, 'this is a bit heavy, perhaps I ought to get help'.
Unfortunately, as it quite usual with me, being the independent type of man that I am, I did not heed my own advice.
The result is lower back pain. Actually the pain is so bad that I have resorted to taking painkillers. Namely Ibuprofen.
Because I don't take tablets as a rule, their effect on me is quite fast when I do. That's why I forgot about my bad back when I had to push my heavy, and malfunctioning, garden tractor down the drive and onto a trailer.
As the painkiller wore off, I felt the results of this act of stupidity when the pain returned with a vengeance.
My answer was to take a double dose of the Ibuprofen. They are very good, and the pain went very quickly. Which is why I forgot about my bad back when I made the decision that I could no longer bear the sight of all the giant weeds, thistles,, nettles and docks which have taken advantage of the mowers recent breakdown and subsequent lack of action.
My solution to this problem was to take the strimmer to the paddock and spend a couple of hours at war against the invaders. Of course as the painkillers wore off I began to regret this impulsive display of horticultural frenzy and my poor back regretted it even more.
Luckily I still had some Ibuprofen left and three tablets later my back pain had subsided sufficiently enough for me to be caught off guard when my dear friend Elizabeth phoned and asked if I could come over, and lift and move some paving slabs for her. Of course I was only too pleased to help. Elizabeth always provides a very nice lunch, and, in line with my simple and frugal lifestyle, I hate to miss out on a free meal. Well to be honest I never know when I might eat again.
Oh! Perhaps I ought to mention that my large tummy is as a result of my genes, and nothing whatsoever to do with over eating. That is the truth!
The pills were rapidly wearing off when I had finished at Elizabeths and my back reminded me of it's fragile condition. Causing me to let out a groan of pain as I slowly and carefully climbed into my truck.
Elizabeth who was about to wave me goodbye was concerned, "oh you poor dear," she said. "Would you like me to give you a back rub?"
"Oh yes please. Shall I go and lie on your bed?" I answered hopefully, as I jumped, gazelle like, from the truck.
No such luck. She had me lean against the kitchen counter while she massaged some foul smelling unguent into the small of my back. The result is that I not only have a bad back but I smell like a horse.
I don't have the option of more pills. I daren't take four. That would be silly, and one pill would be just a waste of time now. So I suppose I shall just have to suffer until my back rights its self. Which hopefully will be soon. Just as long as I remember not to take any more pain killers.
Ibuprofen are marvellous though. Is Ibuprofen a brand name? Do you think they might pay me, if I say it often enough?
The morale of all this is: if you make a rocking chair. Just sit in it!