On the twelfth day of Christmas
The pain fairy gave to me
Eight days on the trot of agonising shoulder pain,
Seven days of freezing, itching, burning, finger pain all brought on by
Six attempts to reach the special plates right at the back of the top cupboard we only use once a year (really should've used a step-ladder),
Five hours sitting in traffic on motorways,
Four nights sleeping in relatives' spare bed on an unforgiving mattress,
Three hours of a white knuckle journey in torrential rain,
Two misjudged attempts at pulling crackers with aforementioned dodgy shoulder (why didn't I learn the first time?!)
And a marathon session watching The Hobbit in 3D
Ok, so it's only 8 days and not very good, but if I only do 8 days it might stop. However, it did not spoil my Christmas at all, and hardly anyone knew about it.
I have decided that my pain can have a name - I have shied away from this because it doesn't deserve one. However, after my Hobbit outing, I've decided that a suitable name for the pain is "Gollum" - it's evil, childlike, nasty, likes lurking in corners, screams a lot, etc. I'm not a Tolkein fan really, but can't help making comparisons : some of the drug names for pain sound like they should be dwarves or elves. How about "Gabapentin of Carbamazepine-land"? It's only a matter of time before they produce a drug called "Gandalf" & I've tried so many, I'm sure I had a presecription for "Thorin" once. And trying to deal with the pain is rather like a journey to middle earth sometimes, a relentless battle, and after 3 hours you've only got to chapter 4. (Apologies to anyone who dislikes Lord of the Rings, and to anyone who loves it, I've probably got bits of this very wrong)
Much to my delight I've discovered I can do a good Gollum impression which scares the children into instant cooperation. "Get your shoes on now, preciouses!"