Dreamland

I feel like Sandra Bullock. I'm sure I'm not the only man to have said that at one time or another in his life but I'm not talking about a desire to know her carnally or anything like that……ermmm…… well, anyway, for the purpose of this blog, I feel like her because, the other night, I saw the film "Premonition" in which she plays a character who has extraordinarily vivid and disturbing dreams that foresee her husband's death and the aftermath (the beforemath as well, actually) of it. It is a quite entertaining fillum. 

Recently, I, too, have been experiencing dreams (at last, the point!) which, although they have chronicled slightly less important issues than my husband's death (you know what I mean), have still induced a strong feeling of unease at the time. These are the ones I can remember:- - I lose a large encyclopedia which I borrowed from the library and which is due back that day - A train drives over my glasses and I have lost my spare pair - I arrive at my local pub and it has been demolished - I suddenly find myself in a totally unfamiliar location (possibly in forrin) wearing only swimming trunks - I wake up suddenly, thinking I have overslept and missed a very important appointment, but it is only 5.45 a.m. I realise this is not strictly speaking a dream but have no doubt it is the consequence of some unconscious thought processes occurring during sleep. Of course, I then can't get back to sleep. 

I'm a bit fed up feeling like Sandra Bullock now.

Legging it...

…or not.

This is not a new shiny I appreciate having, really.

I need it if I know I have to walk more than about 500 yards (i.e. to the pub). Note the go faster stripes on it (they don't work, by the way).

The MRI scan I had fascinatingly showed two prolapsed discs – they've got letters and numbers, you know – and are doing something or other to my sciatic nerve. One of them is responsible for my left leg being (1) partially numb and (2) weak, hence the requirement to employ the aid pictured here.

Also, apparently, I have a something or other shoulder - well, I can't help it if I can't remember what the nice shoulder specialist at the Shoulder Clinic (I kid you not) called it, can I? I'd had an anaesthetic injection in it last November and, until now, it has been marvellous - I've even been able to get dressed by myself.

It's pissing me off a bit but there are folk a bloody sight worse off than me, aren't there? At least I've still got my sanity. *wibble*

Ooh, look - a blog!