The hidden dangers of public transport...

I am suffering from bastard-bus-driver-syndrome. Over four months ago I had the misfortune to be travelling  on a bus where the driver slammed on his brakes, with feckless ferocity, at every bus stop. I was standing, and holding on to the pole to steady myself, when at the moment of braking, a pain like a lightning-bolt, shot up my upper arm.

I have valiantly put up with the pain in my arm, believing in the great healer of time. Yesterday, however, having decided that there had been no significant improvement, I went to see a Physio. Yes, I should have gone months ago and yes, I would take the ten day course of Nurofen, and yes, I would do the simple hand-crawling-up-the-wall-and-down-again exercise, religiously. She also commented on my posture, and said that I am literally sticking my neck out, and rounding my shoulders. By improving the way I hold myself, my neck and back pain would be much reduced.
You should have seen me walking home. It was as if I had a book on my head. I am going to crack this, I thought to myself.

"Are you alright?"asked my husband, as his elongated wife returned from her appointment. It might have been the face of studied concentration that was throwing him.

He needn't have worried. As I walked to the doctor's surgery this morning: a half an hour's walk up a serious hill, I found the habitual tortoise-shape had returned. But in terms of fleetness, I was the hare.

It has, however, taken the rest of the day to recover.

With me it's buy one get one free...