prone

sleep, sleep, so deep that all shapes are ground to dust of infinite softness,
water of dimness inscrutable,
and there, folded, shrouded, like a mummy,
like a moth,
prone let us lie on the sand at the bottom of sleep.
 

Virginia Woolf Orlando 1928

thanks to kind dog who has provided a small small laptop to brighten the invalid hours, i can blog live from the seahorsean bed to report progress in returning to full dorsal health.

as advised i had a cortisone epidural on friday which wasn't too bad as these things go but not something you would cheerfully rock up for every week. after 2 nights of morphine which didn't go close to covering the pain i was ready to try anything, including filleting. 

without wanting to appear churlish, my confidence in my medical team was rather shaken by being greeted by a nurse/underling who was very sweet but spoke just like mrs doyle from father ted. matters were not helped by the anaesthetist then coming in to get me to sign papers and dropping the clipboard on the floor and the third confidence boost came when mrs doyle asked me to lie on my back on the ct bed. when quizzed she admitted that yes the procedure would be better undertaken  if i lay with my back facing up, not down.

i clearly had a lucky escape as both mrs doyle and the anaesthetist expressed amazement at the end that i could walk......