This morning my radio alarm went off (or on) at 6am as usual. Also as usual it turned on (or off, no, on) to xfm. So far my day was like any other.
Except today I’d left the volume up rather loud from playing music last night.
Although I totally agree with xfm’s playlist, a sudden jolt of Franz Ferdinand at 6am when I was dreaming about being a kitten with a banana (how to open it without ruining the delicate fruit with my inexperienced claws?) is a scary thing.
I jumped out of bed to turn it down; the sudden movement gave me severe cramp in my right thigh.
Back in bed with the music at an acceptable level, I massaged my calf (leg not cow) until it felt better.
An hour (or two) later when I actually did get up I noticed that my calf (leg not cow) was still sore, but I thought not much of it.
When I finally left the house (at late o’clock) I stepped out into the brisk fresh air to run to the tube station.
This is when I noticed something was wrong. What with my ankle on my left leg still mysteriously agonising, and now the pain on my right leg, well, walking was a bit of an effort.
I was walking like a loony. In fact I was walking like the Willesden Green loony who wanders the streets with a lame limp. I was worried that people might think I was mocking him.
Maybe that’s what happened to Dublin John…