323/365It

If you don’t want a headache as big as a absinthe hangover then it is best to avoid working on the railway these days. As the weather becomes more extreme and resources stretched further the ability to perform as expected diminishes. Whatever the reasons and I won’t go into them here, it doesn’t provide for a healthy environment for those struggling to provide a semblance of a service. Of course, as was pointed out to me, more than once , as it happens over recent months, we get paid well for the life shortening stress levels. I also appreciate that many would love the opportunity to take their chances. I also understand that shrouds don’t have pockets for good reason.  I am currently sat here completely head fecked and six hours after I finished work I am still struggling to find a calm that doesn’t resemble a lobotomy. Every time we have a day like this and they appear to be happening more frequently these days, I hope that there will be no repeat and yet each time a shift like this ends it is just the start of the countdown to the next one. I am not sure it is supposed to feel like this.

Last night I had my bluff called. After talking to the psychiatric consultant the other day, he felt that constantly putting barriers up towards getting back on a bike was an indication that I preferred the theory to the reality of getting back on a bike. I stepped back from this topic, unsure that this was the case, both he and Linda seemed less delusional then I, so I  set about removing some of the obstacles I had stacked in between me and my wardrobes Lycra shelf. That was until last night. Last night I thought I could watch a documentary on the apparent war between cyclists and proper road tax paying road users ( and yes I know it is VED  and that cyclists emit zero emissions just like a small car). I think I lasted 3o seconds before becoming a gibbering wreck, trying desperately to escape from the room as Linda tried to change the channel. If ever I failed a test of my mental ability to get back on a bike this was it. If ever I needed to get proper help this was the proof to me. I have been left numb by the experience. If I was so wrong about this, what else am I wrong about?

I have an appointment with my Consultant  tomorrow to discover if he is prepared to operate on my arm to attempt to repair the damage to my tricep. I also feel like knocking the crap out of some poor piece of wood but will more than likely go to Aldi and buy some rubbish instead. I may well drag Linda out to the German market for the evening, there is no point having something to not take with me after I burst a blood vessel at work.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s