Dunedin, New Zealand, my city - my people

Thursday, March 15, 2018

"Ouch...... Bloody leg!"

The words of the title of this post (and sometimes worse expletives) have been heard around our house quite a lot over the last few weeks. I was working around our place doing some carpentry and gardening on Saturday 17th February. I had a tired back, I knew I had been working hard. As I sat on the hard pews in church the next morning, my thoughts wandered from the sermon and I realised I had a sore back, getting more painful by the minute. I had some work to finish in the afternoon but at the end of the day, I went and dangled myself from the rafters in the garage. Then I went for a walk. These two things have always worked whenever I have had a sore back before. But they didn't this time, the pain continued. On the Tuesday night I thought it was easing, but on Wednesday morning I had some real pain in my hamstring and down my left leg. My wife said, "Go to a physiotherapist."  So, ever obedient, off I went. It seemed a little better after she pulled and prodded me, but after driving home all hell broke loose, and next day I ended up in the Emergency Department at the hospital. They checked me out, declared that I had a pinched nerve and it would come right, and gave me powerful painkillers. Since then it continues. Now my foot is numb and I cannot walk far. I had a retired firefighter friend phone me asking me if I wanted to go on a tramp. I would love to have done the tramp he was doing, but there is no way I could do it. I've had further pain pills from my doctor, my physio has poked and proded, and I've been for two swims in the hot physio pool, and enjoyed them, but still little relief. I am getting to feel that this could be a permanent reality for me. I am grumpy, walking was my therapy. Working around home in the vege garden etc. is essential. Pain has a way of dragging you down, especially at night when you are trying to sleep. So I am battling on, but inside a bit scared about what this all means for my future abilities.
But.... Yesterday I drove into town to visit my chaplaincies. I drove past the home of a retired firefighter. He is the one who called me "JC's helper". (See the paragraph headed "The Blog's title") He was mowing his lawn, and looked to be struggling. Since he retired as a fit fire fighter just a few years ago he has had a rough time. His wife's health had been bad for a long time, and I had bumped into them from time to time, at blood clinics and hospital, with her in a wheelchair and him guiding it. They were always cheerful. Then he had a diagnosis of Parkinson's disease and his tremors were quite pronounced. Shortly after that his wife died in front of him at home. As I drove past yesterday, grumpy about my predicament, here he was, a widower, struggling to push his lawn mower, and looking down the barrel of an inevitable decline in his abilities. I thought, "At least I don't have his circumstances to cope with!" I then promised myself to face my setbacks more positively. 

The other day too I talked to a young firefighter whose six year old son has been battling cancer receiving months of tough treatment. He too was being positive. "It'll be a blip on our journey. It has brought us all closer together as a family. We're doing OK." Bravery in the face of challenging uncertain circumstances.

With this wider picture in mind, I have nothing significant to growl about. (I have just had a phone call from the hospital. They want to do an MRI scan on my back this afternoon. It will be good to know exactly what is happening with my spine.) "Carry on David, be hopeful and positive."

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