It took three days for my back to come out of spasm ! During which time I seemingly gorged myself on paracetamol and ibuprofen thanking my lucky stars that such drugs exist and I wasn’t born in some bygone age when they didn’t. My wife I can’t thank enough for her patience and hot water bottle skills which soothed my back almost as much as the tablets did. After five weeks where I reached a sort of recovery plateau I decided with a bit of prodding from the wife to take myself down to the Doctors. A young man of Indian extraction who looked at me with weariness he asked me what my expectations were ? I think my reply threw him a bit; I told him I didn’t have any really, other than the vague hope that there might be some gel or pill he could prescribe to ease my suffering. If not I’d drag my sorry arse back home and pretend I’d never crossed his medical threshold. He had me lay on his couch and gave me a bit of prodding and prescribed me a drug of which I wasn’t familiar ( but the wife was ) called Backlofen which apparently is some sort of muscle relaxant. That’s plan A. Plan B will be a referral to a musco skeletal person if as the Verve sang The drugs don’t work ! but hallelujah they seem to be.
Despite with immense trepidation of still managing to go to work my enforced lay off has severely curtailed my street exploits. Is it time to seek a more benign photographic path Is a question I keep asking myself ? Is my self published book Breugel Town ( on Blurb) a time now to underline my street photography exploits and move on to seek a different definition ? For sure my physical confidence has taken a severe battering and I’ve had to slow down and think about every physical move I make. Mentally as well. Street photography is not necessarily for those approaching the high seat for the elderly and arthritic and I’m getting to the age where I can’t be bothered to handle some of the confrontations I’ve had in the past. Street photography if you approach it in the way I have is not for the faint hearted.