…Who said, “Although pain isn’t real,
If I sit on a pin
And it punctures my skin
I dislike what I fancy I feel!”

I’m sore.

The dentist had another go at my tooth this afternoon and prescribed me industrial strength Ibuprofen. And since last Friday, my groin has been very sore and sensitive indeed. Today is the first day for almost a week that I have been walking almost normally.

It’s been bad timing, because this was also the week that I moved our office (albeit only two blocks, from here to here, but still taxing) – thank heavens for my heroic assistant, and my family and friends, who helped with humping boxes, IKEA furniture purchases, etc.

But I also feel rather lucky. The last week has been grim for me in terms of physical discomfort – probably the worst I can remember in my life; other periods of ill health I have had have just involved lying in bed feeling crap rather than actually being in pain at both ends. But other people have it worse. My ground down molar will eventually heal; my groin will return to normal (minus one significant potential ability). My wife has been very gallant in not mentioning too loudly her experiences in delivering our three children. And other people – some reading this, I know – live in constant pain, from whatever reason. It’s something I have spent most of my life not having to think about; and the fact that I have spent much of the last week thinking about it has been a revelation of the extent of my own good fortune.