Oh dear... drug induced ramblings!

Following on from my declaration of good health after my recent successful completion of 365 consecutive Blips, some of you may have noticed I've been absent for the last few days. With hindsight I should have kept my mouth firmly closed!

A couple of weeks ago I trapped a nerve at the top of my spine, this resulted in some pain in my back and right arm. Now let's not beat about the bush, it resulted in a lot of pain, in fact great giant bouts of raw searing agony. At this point GeordiePam muttered something about ’big girl’s blouse’ but I chose to ignore her and consulted my (Welsh witch) doctor. Following two appointments with him, two blood tests, a chest X-ray and a planned consultation with a specialist next week, you will not be surprised to learn that I am now... still in a lot of pain!

In the meantime I have actively been making friends with those two mistresses of pain relief, namely Miss Paracetamol and Miss Voltarol, these two ladies did their best but only partly succeeded in assisting me. That's when my doctor decided to call in the BIG GUNS... Matt Morphine and his marauding muscle-bound mercenaries. It's hard to believe that this level of pain relief is required for a cause that's no bigger that a gnat's willy! Anyway now I've sampled the delights of Mr Morphine I can honestly say... I don't care anymore! At least sleep can be welcomed into my bed for a few hours each night (and day if the truth be known). That stuff doesn't mess around, I take two spoonfuls and while I'm waiting for the pain to disappear it knocks me out, how great is that!

I just realised that I haven't written this much in a while, in fact not since my last bestseller... 'The care and selection of pet Wildebeest for children aged 5 to 10 years'. It will come as no surprise to learn that this topped the non-fiction charts at www.amazon.congo for 3 whole hours. It was only knocked off the top spot by 'Fifty shades of puce' a story of everyday folk, love and intrigue all taking place against the backdrop of the romantic Finglas salt mines. This masterpiece being the result of a thirty-five year collaboration between Dick Emery and Mrs Brown's boys.

I've just realised why it's taken me five hours to write this Blip, about four and a half hours ago my right arm dropped off and disguised itself as a greasy hillock at the side of my writing desk. This was probably contributed to by the liberal application of two gallons of Voltarol over the last week. Oh well we live and learn, think I'll stick with Mr Morphine for now, anyone want to buy half a barrel of Voltarol going cheap?

Anyway if you are still reading this (tell me why?) it was just a long winded way to tell you that my arm hurts a bit and I didn't take any pictures :-)