January 26th, 2010


moments between posts

This also happened today:

  • 13:32 A child rides by in his push-chair staring at the shopping centre through binoculars shaped like the head of a (fantastic mr?) fox.
  • 23:23 Excitement at the Magdalen Arms! We end up buying Flo a drink after the several friendly policemen have left. Also, great chocolate cake!

crystalline buildup

Okay, so, the poisoning's gone now. And the knee (embarassingly injured in a country dancing mishap, while I was facing my childhood fears -- let that be a lesson to you), now that's also been steadily getting better, under a regime of gentle exercise and no longer running up and downstairs like a maniac. More or less.

However, I noticed that last week, unable to eat, walk and generally pitiful in all other ways, my knees were markedly better. Swelling down, no pain. Almost back to normal! Saturday night I'd recovered well, and we had friends round, timscience cooked them delicious food, wine was consumed, etc. etc.

Sunday brought excruciating pain, mostly in the knee joints, but also shooting down the legs. Bad enough I ended up putting my feet up while I waited for the painkillers to kick in, bad enough that I was staggering. It was as if, I thought (from a pleasantly clear head, it has to be said) I have a hangover in my knees.

Ah. Now. There's a word for that. And while it's not traditionally applied to pre-menopausal women, if it's applicable to Julie Burchill, could it be applicable to me? Almost invariably, the answer to that question is "no", but it has to be said ... could it be the dreaded g-word? Bane of restaurant critics with bad circulation? Could it be... (say it small) gout?

This, obviously, needs to be put to the test. I will, therefore, over the next couple of months, be following a careful regime of experimental drinking and eating, checking in detail the effect of rich food, different types of alcoholic beverage and general overindulgence on my poor, abused knee joints. If anyone feels able to help me with this, I'll be very grateful, and of course name them in the research paper.

Obviously I'll have to do some control sessions of abstemiousness and exercise, but it hardly seems fair to expect any friends to suffer alongside me so that I will do alone. Possibly in a hair shirt (I have one to hand, having just cut my hair).

Harlequin is still in her buster collar. From the right angle, it makes her look just like Lady Gaga.