Nothing like a good book

When you're Hors de Combat

I have, since the Tenerife Knee (previously discussed - surely?), had a dreadful back from using crutches and limping like Anthony Sher’s Richard III - a cross between a Spider and a Crab. This has now transmuted into crippling sciatica that arrives just before attempting morning ablutions and remains for about 90 minutes of unmitigated hell. Inevitably, this impacts my life and makes me unpleasant and grumpy. I have to swerve the Tory drinks party (Huzzah), but I will also miss a chum’s stag dinner (Boo), a celebration of his most recent attempt at tying a permanent knot. I might send him, in my absence, a teeshirt on which I shall have printed Heraclitus' observation: No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river, and he's not the same man. In his case, however, it’s his third swim!

A second chum phoned so I mentioned my pain (aka moaned) to him - ignoring the fact that he had called to discuss his life. Because I am a thoughtless git sometimes, I immediately felt pitiful, guilty, and full of remorse because when you’re whining, it’s best not to do so to a chum in a much worse position than you. He’s just getting over a very tough battle with cancer, which has wholly buggered up 70% of his taste buds, appetite and joie de vivre. It will I pray all come back, but asking for some interest in my sciatica was unforgivable. We moved on, and cheered each other up by discussing a mutual friend who had been told to take more exercise or else, and instead of going for a brisk walk, he conducted pacey exercises on his staircase. The inevitable happened, and NHS repairs to his leg, ankle and several ribs will soon see him back on the road to health. Both moaning and sympathy can be overdone.

Such is life, but in the down times when you’re simply trying to ignore your woes, there is nothing like a good book to take your mind off the crap. Luckily, this past month, a third chum, doubtless