Pain and Podcasting

Last week, while on a business trip to San Fransisco, I managed to somewhat painfully injure my knee. Its the sort of injury I should expect when, at my advanced age, attempting to perform stunts on a snowboard and so I shouldn't complain. Well, if I'd been on a snowboard, I wouldn't complain, but I seem to have done this during the comparitively simple and well practiced manouver of getting out of bed, so I do feel a bit put out. I suppose it does go to prove my suspicion that many a bad day could be avoided by, quite simply, refusing to get up in the first place. I must try that out one day...



A concerned friend spotted me hobbling around the office and offered me some pain killers. Under normal circumstances I'd have had some anyway but, when I was packing my bag for the trip I realised that I had accumulated a vast quantity of pills, creams and ointments over my travelling career - enough that I could have treated any number of ailments from head to toe. So, fearful of being labled a hypochondriac, I elected to leave them at home. There's another reason of course, some of them were so old that the labels had worn off which would only invite trouble. I suspect that attempting to clean teeth with athlete's foot cream is disgusting, and I dont have the kind of unusual sensual proclivities for which a hint of minty-freshness between the toes would be a prerequisite, for either party.



As usual, my warped sense of humour almost managed to get me into trouble... The kind fellow handed me a couple of pills - small, vaguely diamond shaped, blue pills. Being a cheapskate, I tend to buy generic painkillers in the UK and so I'm accustomed to pills being of the rather boring, small, round, white variety. Colours and shapes - they're what you get from the Doctor for special occasions. I've only ever heard of one pill that matches the earlier description, so I peered suspiciously at him and said "I already have a dodgy knee - I dont need anything else stiffening up, thank you...".

If you're reading, Lew, I honestly didnt mean to imply you've been, you know, "disappointing miss Daisy" or "less-than-magic Johnson"...


So, back in Blighty and one 'minor injuries clinic' visit later, I am in posession of a pair or crutches, a stern caution from a nurse to keep my leg 'elevated' and an alternative use for a bag of frozen peas. It seems likely that I have "housemaid's knee", a diagnosis which caused a rather unattractive snort of derision from the good Mrs Grumbler, who indicated that the infrequency of my active engagement in domestic cleaning activites must surely rule this out. Perhaps Patellar Bursitis sounds more manly, or even immediately life-threatening.


Thinking about it, Patellar Bursitis sounds more like a distant star, around which some strange kind of alien life might have evolved "the Telepathic Eagle-Wolves of Patellar Bursitis". Or maybe a good name for an awful band. Which brings me on to my first attempt at podcasting which is called 'Music and Mumblings' - you can find it here. The bands are actually rather good. Have a listen - if I have to suffer, I dont see why you shoudnt too...