Painkillers

At the moment my body is a temple to pain.
It is letting me down in the way that a washing machine with which has seen too many years of use, starts misbehaving

My broken shoulder which has at last allowed me to sleep on that side at night, has by day reminded me that this is a concession hard won and is not altogether welcome.

My pelvis with its connections to my back, emanates twinge signals if I have to stand in one position or walk too far. I have been very remiss with the exercises given to me by the physiotherapist, mainly because getting up from the ground after performing them, constitutes an exercise in itself.

My big toe is complaining in an arthritic way about having been punished on hamster like treadmills and pavements over the years. It is given to 'stoun' at unexpected times which transmits upwards as an audible yelp.

My little toe on the other foot, not to be outdone, has developed a painful callous which will require attention. I will not utter the word 'corn', because corns only happen to old people.

As you see,  I suffer for my bus pass. I would gladly give it up for the pain free body of former years.

Pain or not, I am about to push the vacuum cleaner round the flat: we have young visitors tonight who would not understand the handicap under which I labour!

'Stoun' is a Scots word meaning a sharp throb of pain.