I could hardly walk last Thursday. I’d done my back in somehow. Can’t think how (and certainly not due to anything pleasurable!).

Luckily this only happens about once every five years. The silliest thing can cause it. The last major incident was during a photoshoot in 1994 when I stretched across a background to pick up a small teapot and ended up crawling around the house for two days.

This time I was just incredibly stiff, with a few twinges. I hate pills but an anti-inflammatory at bedtime seemed to ease things. A nasty side effect of the pills is that they seem to make me depressed. Which is unusual, because I’m naturally a happy bunny. Or maybe it’s just the nagging back pain that gets me down? Hard to tell…

I always wonder what would it be like if it didn’t get better. It is so disabling. Glad to say I’m now well on the road to recovery.

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