I've had pain in my back and some weakness in one leg for some time now. It started one weekend about 7 weeks ago. The worst pain I've ever was running down my leg.
The pain improved within hours but I was left with a limp due to weakness. This has improved with time, but I still have a weak foot and toes. The pain in my back comes and goes, but might be becoming more frequent with time.
Recently I had a bone scan and an MRI of my lower spine. I've not yet had the results of the bone scan or the official radiologist report of my MRI, but when I saw the oncologist on Friday he had a look at the MRI.
He couldn't see anything that looked like cancer. Phew! Such a relief.
It always looked like sciatica, but this nasty little thought kept whispering: What if it isn't sciatica? What if...?
The doctor thought one of my discs was pressing on a nerve, so it sounds like a herniated disc. I will make an appointment with my GP to see if physio will help.
Sunday, 7 July 2013
Thursday, 4 July 2013
The Heroism of Ordinary People
Postman's Park is one of the largest parks in the City of London.
Contained within it is a hidden treasure: a wall with tiles describing incidents where ordinary people died while trying to save others. Most of these are from the latter part of the 19th century to the first decades of the 20th century. They relate incidents such as burning buildings, gas explosions, falls into rivers, and railway accidents.
Reading the basic facts of these personal tragedies is an oddly moving experience. Some of these people were only children at the time, but they were still brave beyond measure. The wall of tiles remains a fitting monument to the courage of ordinary folk.
I first encountered this by chance over 20 years ago while visiting the park during a lunchtime stroll when I worked near St Paul's. All the tiles were still there today when I visited the park before my appointment at Barts.
The park itself is very pleasant with grass, and borders and a fish pond. St Botolph Aldersgate adjoins the park as it was once its churchyard but it was locked at the time of my visit.
Contained within it is a hidden treasure: a wall with tiles describing incidents where ordinary people died while trying to save others. Most of these are from the latter part of the 19th century to the first decades of the 20th century. They relate incidents such as burning buildings, gas explosions, falls into rivers, and railway accidents.
Reading the basic facts of these personal tragedies is an oddly moving experience. Some of these people were only children at the time, but they were still brave beyond measure. The wall of tiles remains a fitting monument to the courage of ordinary folk.
I first encountered this by chance over 20 years ago while visiting the park during a lunchtime stroll when I worked near St Paul's. All the tiles were still there today when I visited the park before my appointment at Barts.
The park itself is very pleasant with grass, and borders and a fish pond. St Botolph Aldersgate adjoins the park as it was once its churchyard but it was locked at the time of my visit.
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
A dreadful tale of a ghostly black dog
I met up with a friend for lunch in a cafe just off Bread St. He then took me up to the rooftop terrace and we explored the city skyline. St Paul's dominated the foreground, and receding into the middle distance we saw boxy modern buildings glowering over church spires, busy cranes creating yet more architectural wonders(?), the gentle tracery of the London Eye, and the Oxo tower squashed between two dull office blocks.
Then off to my radiotherapy appointment and back home.
But I haven't mentioned the ghostly black dog yet. I had forty minutes to spare before lunch so off I went to bag another city church. Just along Newgate St is St Sepulchre's. The door was locked so I was limited to the tiny garden containing the old churchyard, which included several crumbling tombs, One of these had large gaps in the stonework. I've often wondered what is actually inside these tombs - skeletons, leaded coffins, urns? I fumbled in my rucksack for my LED torch, and shining it through the gaps, I peered inside. Empty.
But the ghostly dog? I'm just coming to that.
Outside the church was a sign about the infamous Newgate Prison which once stood nearby. Newgate was rife with ghost stories, one of the most famous being the Black Dog of Newgate. In 1596 a scholar, imprisoned for practicing sorcery, was killed and eaten by starving inmates. A ghostly black dog appeared soon afterwards, and although the terrified prisoners managed to escape, the dog haunted them wherever they went.
Ever since then people have reported seeing a stalking black shadow accompanied by a hideous smell and the sound of dragging footsteps...
Then off to my radiotherapy appointment and back home.
But I haven't mentioned the ghostly black dog yet. I had forty minutes to spare before lunch so off I went to bag another city church. Just along Newgate St is St Sepulchre's. The door was locked so I was limited to the tiny garden containing the old churchyard, which included several crumbling tombs, One of these had large gaps in the stonework. I've often wondered what is actually inside these tombs - skeletons, leaded coffins, urns? I fumbled in my rucksack for my LED torch, and shining it through the gaps, I peered inside. Empty.
But the ghostly dog? I'm just coming to that.
Outside the church was a sign about the infamous Newgate Prison which once stood nearby. Newgate was rife with ghost stories, one of the most famous being the Black Dog of Newgate. In 1596 a scholar, imprisoned for practicing sorcery, was killed and eaten by starving inmates. A ghostly black dog appeared soon afterwards, and although the terrified prisoners managed to escape, the dog haunted them wherever they went.
Ever since then people have reported seeing a stalking black shadow accompanied by a hideous smell and the sound of dragging footsteps...
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