November 28th 2018
Today I succumbed to taking some painkillers for my knee. I think everyone at work yesterday was bored of hearing me moan about how much my knee hurts, so they threw various painkillers at me until I shut up. It did hurt though. Or, it does, I can’t decide.
Did I tell you how I hurt it? I was playing golf last weekend, walking along after my ball and stepped into a big ditch in the ground. My knee bent in the direction that knees were not built to bend, and since then it’s hurt a lot. I’ve also played football twice since then and aggravated it on both occasions, so that was daft. I should stop doing that. I have an aisle to walk down this weekend, after all. (not mine — it’s my sister’s wedding)
And so, I caught the drugs that various people threw at me yesterday (in my hand, not my mouth) and re-dosed myself today. I was however adamant that I didn’t need the codeine that was offered to me, because that kind of felt like putting a matchstick out with the Pacific ocean.
I don’t know why, but I don’t really like taking painkillers. I usually prefer a well-scheduled pain management routine of moaning dosed with bouts limping. Painkillers aren’t going to fix whatever’s wrong with my leg, they’re just going to stop me noticing it for a while. The only thing that will fix my leg is A) time or B) having the fucking thing chopped off from the thigh down.
A mixture of ibuprofen and paracetamol is too temporary a solution. The only real solution is time, and I’ve got plenty of that. But I think for the sake of my coworkers’ sanity I should just shut up and pop painkillers for a few days so as not to annoy them too much.
Until tomorrow, codeine seems a bit excessive though.