After venting my spleen at the useless United Nations yesterday morning, I went to bed only to awaken some 4 hours later with crippling stomach pains and heavy reflux in the gullet. Was this meal of Singapore noodles the previous night at the cabbies café in Regent Street to blame ? (Click to enlarge) Whilst it’s my usual order there, sooner or later a joint like that has to nail me.
Briefly I wondered if I was having a mild heart attack then dismissed the thought just as quickly on the realisation I’d passed a medical check-up with flying colours, just a few months ago. So I sat in bed for an hour reading, smoking and drinking tea before lapsing back into a normal sleep till 4.30 pm. Consequently I woke good as gold.
Though bad luck comes in waves. At 2.30 am this morning, after earlier picking up a screw which embedded in the cab’s rear tyre, it gave way just five minutes from the base. Now tyre-changing is one of those jobs which can really bugger someone with a dodgy back. So very carefully, I spent 20 minutes on a 10 minute job gingerly manhandling the operation. Sure enough by the end of the task my lower back was in spasm and threatening to seize.
However as I write this, one hour later, the back aggravation has settled down and feels relatively fine. Testament I guess to a daily light-exercise routine plus some horizontal folk dancing every blue moon. I just thought two health hiccups in the same day was a good chance to complain. Though what's the point in complaining - no one’s listening I tell myself !