Hot summer days

So last week whilst driving the “Silver Dream Machine” (or more correctly the Passat which is a bleeding nightmare to be fair) on holiday, my missus was going on about something or nothing and I was just watching the traffic thinking great thoughts ... car names like StRange Rover and GLand Rover ... MR2 in French is “merde” ... Anyway, she started reminiscing about her youth, in particular a hot 1970's summer that was a great British heatwave, those that were so great that everyone went to the river to swim and keep cool – happy times. I mentioned that the most recent heatwave we had, a year or so back, was accompanied by a swarm of ladybirds – not wanting to be undone she went on to discuss a holiday she had been on as a child that was really hot and that that year there was a swarm of midgets! I thought about this and asked if she was a little confused – no, she replied, it was so bad that she could never forget that hot summer plagued by swarming midgets! I told her that I could not remember such a year and she questioned how I could not remember such an event as there were just so many midgets, it was even on the news. I did say that if there had been such an event that I definitely would not have forgotten it! Surely if this great comic event ever did happen someone would have made a film about it … Soon after the conversation we pulled up in Balls Park, I got the kids out for a play and some fresh air and we had a picnic – some small flies bugged us so we went off for a walk. I did notice that there were a lot of tall people out that day – I would not say it was enough to call a swarm, but there were a lot.

Aluminium Man

So I managed to complete my latest adventure in raising money for charity, which again turned out pretty damned good and raised nearly £400 for the Stroke Association! Unfortunately, what I was left with was almost as inconvenient as the impact this issue casts upon the poor sufferer - I have a stress fracture in my ankle! For a few days after my walk I had no more than a cankle (that bit where the calf meets the ankle) - once the swelling went down it looked like a double ankle! Anyway, long and short is A&E don't care to much about doing anything with this until I have a bone scan and they can see how bad it is - that'll be the scan scheduled for two weeks time! Then all they will say is "rest it". Anyway, following an incident in the train station yesterday; being attacked by a bloke with his rolling bag (why are these dicks like caravan drivers) and shouting abuse at him, I noted a few people looking at the attacker at tutting - in my mind they are all thinking "Tch, look at that rude idiot with his bag not looking where he is going - well done that spastic for standing up for himself" - and that's where my new nickname was sporned ... I am Spastic Dave!! It is quite liberating walking around with sticks - uncomfortable and embarrassing - but liberating in the eay it helps you drop off the PC peg for a while. I have joined a new sub-group of society and can flex the position as I feel fit. It's also given me a whole new insight into these wasters in society that actually live life by the crutch. As soon as I was tasked with leaving the hospital and returning to my life, I craved to stop for a while in the street and light up! This is amazing, nothing has given me this urge stronger than this ever before!! Hopefully I'll be off these soon as I feel I may have to buy me a shell suit. People respect me now - they can't slam a door in my face any more without becoming seen as social pariahs. Although I have moved down a step in the mobility scale I am now actually top of my game as Spastic Dave!