Tripping Out

We're just back from Geylang where I conducted a little experiment on myself. I timed a walk we took after an eminently satisfying round of epok epok, kueh lopez and teh tarik at Zain's Café to Tanjong Katong Complex to see how long it took before I'd need, and I mean need, to sit down. The answer was thirteen minutes and twenty-six seconds. The first six and a half minutes were entirely pain free. Then came the first slight shadows of something. For the next two minutes or so a faint numbness enshrouded my right foot and the pain, starting embarrassingly in my backside steadily made its course down my thigh. By ten minutes the muscle at the side of my right shin started throbbing. That's the sign that I must move and get seated, especially when the throbbing becomes distinctly rhythmic. At that point I went off to the car whilst Noi continued her shopping. One of the interesting, and sometimes demanding, aspects of my current condition is the need to plan anything that involves being upright with great care such that it's always possible to find somewhere to sit down.

I'd been hoping that the latest medicine might keep me on my feet a little longer than this but possibly it hasn't really kicked in yet. But the pill that is said to make you drowsy certainly appears to be having that effect on me. The feeling of being mildly detached from the world is rather pleasant, but I'm not sure it's going to help me on a working day. My plan is to try it tomorrow and hope no one notices how spaced out I am.

Noi tells me I'm now slanting, a phenomenon the doc pointed out to me yesterday in the course of his examination. I have no real sense of this though I do notice it to some degree when looking in a mirror in a state of undress. The missus has advised me to walk straight which is something I don't think I'm going to be able to achieve as I'm not in any way aware of walking bent. I think she's a bit embarrassed about me looking like a stooping old fellow, but I quite enjoy the drama of limping along.

In fact, it has occurred to me that this will be a good time to do a little activity called Where's The Pain? with the drama guys on Wednesday. The idea is to imagine a pain in some part of your body and then let it affect your movements without telling, as it were, the audience (the circle of pain you are in) where it is. Then the watchers try and guess what the problem was. It's a fascinating activity usually. Quite disconcertingly you can get a powerful sense of discomfort, almost suffering, just watching the participants. I suppose that, in the final analysis, it's all in the head.