I have to admit...

... it's getting better. It is, in fact, getting better all the time. More on this later. By the way, not the world's most exciting post today.

But first things first - it hurts me deeply to have to write this.

Specifically, it hurts me deeply because I look to have inflamed the infrapatellar ligament, the ligament between my kneecap and the big bone of my lower leg. It;s been grizzling and groaning for a few months now and yesterday I kicked a football around with people who were younger and fitter than I was. I woke up with a knee like a rockmelon and a tendency to whimper, and try and persuade Sarah to help me get dressed. Now I am hobbling around the place on crutches, with a theatrically large bandage on my knee, and complaining to anyone who'll listen (a very short list). Tomorrow I am writing myself up for an ultrasound.

I should point out that this condition should be distinguished from housemaid's knee (prepatellar bursitis), clergyman's knee (infrapatellar bursitis) or the alarmingly named breast-stroker's knee (named after the swimming stroke, not some previously undiscovered profession). There is also the closely related pes anserine (or "goose's foot") bursitis: maybe it's that.

The pain is worst "medial", i.e.: on the edge of the patella closest to the centre of the body. That could mean either breast-stroker's or goosefoot - or possibly the rarely described goose-stroker's bursitis.

Anyway, what's been going on? I was reading in the BMJ* about two new findings. One, published April first, describes a new disease diagnosis - the previously undescribed "Motivational Deficiency Disorder". This debilitating condition, believed to affect as many as one in five Australians, "is characterised by overwhelming and debilitating apathy." Furthermore, "in severe cases motivational deficiency disorder can be fatal, because the condition reduces the motivation to breathe."

Anyway, it continues on like that, and it's pretty funny. And it's written in jest, but I suspect that there's a lot of truth in it.

Another, more serious article, points out that there is evidence that faking happiness at work can make you seriously ill - elevated heart rates, cardovascular strain, presumably leading to heart attacks and so on. The argument goes that it's not so much dealing with clients/patients/fellow workers who are narcissistic, aggressive or just plain bare-bones stupid - it's having to smile amiably and converse in a measured and reasonable tone that kills you. The authors, apparently, call for a reappraisal of the idea that "the customer is always right".

I reckon this will strike a chord with many of us.

As to all the other stuff that was going on - it really is getting better all the time. And thanks again for the various well-wishings and offering of sacrificial ex-husbands and so on, it fills my heart with joy to see how selflessly some of you will offer up things precious to you.

Anyhow, whether it's the valproate, or the reboxetine, or the collected good will and various enchantments of my supporters, or the fact that after the last post I finally buckled to superstition and wore my lucky Silver Surfer boxer shorts to work... it seems that Insert Name Here has been told to Insert Head Right Up There and bugger off. Things are on the up. First class.

Seriously - the mood is getting back to normal, no morbid thoughts for a day or two.

Sleep patterns probably starting to return to normal - and at least in the early hours of the morning I can plan stuff, rather than panic.

Concentration still a little bit iffy - certainly not up to ED standard yet, but adequate for the drugs and alcohol stuff.

Appetite - several tins of fruit, a few meals of pasta and some gloppy sweet stuff later, probably back to normal Monday.

And that means I can go back to the gym Monday, and back to judo (once the knee calms itself down), and start writing again, and do normal stuff. And write on my blog about other people and their problems, rather than about me and mine. Tomorrow I see if I can brush the cobwebs off the punching bag.

As far as communicating, writing is pretty much all I'll be doing - half the family has come down with laryngitis, and I didn't want to feel left out, so I got myself some of that. For the last two says I've been speaking in whispers - I suspect the original cause was probably from talking too much about myself. But this isn't a bad thing - with most of us sick, it's remarkably quiet here. And I've noticed this kind of thing before, where your body basically says "Look, I asked you before to take it easy, but now I'm telling you" and produces one of those lie-in-bed-for-three-days things that remove you from the field of conflict.

Anyhow, no real inspiration today, just glad things are finally returning to normal. Thanks again,

Thanks for listening,
John

*BMJ - British Medical Journal, one of the "big five" medical journals and one of the few that is consistently interesting.