The Communion of Saints

The Communion of Saints
I hope there's room for me.

Welcome all - especially Mancunians.

Hello anybody lost in the blogosphere. Welcome to the ruminations of a politically left of centre, Man United supporting, blues loving, history-fixated, Catholic wanderer. Be warned, I am a bit of a curmudgeon.



Wednesday 26 September 2012

The best laid plans.....

I haven't blogged for a while, even though there have been quite a lot of things to comment on in the world of sport (especially the Olympics and Paralympics), Faith and Politics. Except for the odd comment here and there, I have stayed out of the blogosphere.

I wish I could say that it was due to a need to reassess the way I use my time and direct my energies anew but the truth is closer to the opposite. I have allowed myself to be run into the ground and, in the way of those who refuse to acknowledge such lack of commonsense in their own behaviour, have ploughed onwards in my work life with (I would guess) less success in each of my endeavours.

Knowing I was due a good break starting this week, I didn't use my days off to rest and ignored the aches and pains, broken sleep and less agility of mind that comes from being over-worked.

On Monday, 20 minutes before I was due to finish for my holiday, I was reminded that personal determination cannot defeat the body when it wants to slow down: whilst speaking with one of the prisoners I work with about the Liverpool-Man Utd game on Sunday, I suddenly felt my legs go from under me and struggled to keep my balance. The guy I was talking with laughed as he thought, as he later explained, that I was doing a 'bit of an Irish jig' because I was pleased with the result of the match - I wasn't that pleased! Luckily, the medical team were visiting the Segregation Unit next door and, having been helped to a chair by a couple of the prison officers, I was seen to immediately. The worst part was the double vision which is still not quite right now.

In the event, having been wheeled down to the healthcare centre and checked over again, an ambulance was called and I ended up in A&E to assure themselves that I hadn't had a transient ischaemic attack (TIA).
I was told they believe I am exhausted and need to be off work - fortunate that my holiday break started that evening - and I can't drive my car for a few days.

What is the point of this post? Well, if anybody reading this feels it speaks in some way to their own situation - stop, take a break, before your body forces you to shut down. Believe me, it is less unpleasant that way. Yesterday I felt like I had been hit by a truck and my holiday plans have been thrown into some disarray.

I am still hoping to get away at the weekend but if I don't, it will be my own silly fault. At least I can post a few thoughts, I mean to say - why should I suffer alone?

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