I have lumbago. Lumbago! This is the least glamorous ailment I have had since I caught ringworm from a horse in Morocco. Actually, it doesn't even have the exoticism of Moroccan horse ringworm. It sounds like something an elderly, stout, 1930s housemaid would get. Also, Wikipedia indicates 'lumbago' is just a generic term for 'lower back pain'. Symptoms: inability to stand up straight for past 48 hours and posture reminiscent of Mrs Overall, or indeed Mrs Doyle, or perhaps a geriatric crab that has lost a couple of legs in a fight with a seagull. Unsurprisingly, lower back pain. Loss of sense of humour. Self-pity. Lying on floor. L, who is home "revising" (= eating Daims and watching Top Gear) saw me off to the doctor with an enthusiastic "maybe you'll come back IN A WHEELCHAIR!" Both boys suggested I should be sent to Gary Larsson's horse hospital to be shot. Your concern is precious to me. I had to pay L €5 to walk the dog.
This study leave business is ridiculous for a 12 year old. Also, most of the exams don't require you to know any facts, barring the date of the creation of the Belgian state, and it is far too late for any of us to understand the accord des participes passés des verbes pronominaux.
The doctor, in her infinite Belgium wisdom, has given me - in addition to painkillers - 30 Valium to treat the lumbago. Which is interesting. Initially I thought it wasn't doing anything at all, but by the time it got to this morning and I had fallen upstairs then started drooling on my keyboard, I had to accept that it was probably doing something. I can almost walk now, so that's progress. Whether I can think or speak is another matter.
40% Legitimately off face on benzos.
20% Angry crab
10% Delicate scent of organic fake tan (sort of vanilla Marmite)
10% Next to the angry baby on the Eurostar AGAIN
10% Forgotten Kindle panic
10% Exciting Papa Waffle news I cannot share yet.