Aarrgghh!!

Any weirdos out there logging on to the blog for another riveting tale of a bike ride through Cambridgeshire are going to be disappointed this time I’m afraid. Each time my confidence in achieving my goal has grown, some unpredictable factor has intervened to burst the bubble.

I’ve suffered with sciatic back pain before but this was different. The most annoying thing was that it was down to my own stupidity. With the prolonged dry spell the need to water the seedlings at the allotment led me to carry too much from the communal tap. The resulting pain was bearable but a few days later, while tying my shoelace, it felt as though I had been shot. An hour passed while I painstakingly inched my way to the bedroom and stayed there for 36 hours, unable to move.

Because my drugs cause brittle bones and I already have some cancer in my spine, the Oncology doctor advised Ros to call 999. My uncooperative veins meant a shot of morphine was out of the question so my passage to the waiting ambulance was helped by gas and air. A few hours later, after a lot of questions, prodding, and X-rays I was told it was not cancer related and then being dosed up with painkillers I could go home.

Three weeks later it is still not completely better but luckily I have found cycling to be beneficial so after a frustrating delay I have now resumed my training. It’s been a blow but I can’t give up now.