Antibiotics, a Walking Stick and a Speeding Ticket

It’s coming up to six weeks since I stopped smoking, and I had the idea that this was a turning point for me. Only good things would happen now that I’m free of the evil weed. In truth, it’s probably been the worst six weeks of my life.

The original illness which prompted me to stop smoking lingers on. I’m still coughing up crap and suffering the occasional chest pains. So I was back at the doc’s this morning and he’s put me on another course of antibiotics in an effort to clear out the remaining infection.

I walk with a stick. Have done for nearly twenty years. My old walking stick, a fold up job I got from TJ Hughes for a fiver, was getting a bit past it, so I bought a new one on Saturday, and again it cost me a fiver. The previous one lasted a good ten years. The replacement fell apart this morning, only three days after I bought it, and naturally, I didn’t buy it local. By the time I’ve done with petrol and parking charges, it’ll cost me the same five quid to go back for an exchange. Fortunately, I have a spare, and fine wooden stick which cost me a tenner fifteen years ago.

So by the time I got home this morning, I thought I’d suffered enough, but not so. Last Wednesday, I had to go to Leeds for the funeral of a favourite old uncle. I’d only gone a mile when I had my photograph taken. I learned of it this morning when the postman dropped the speeding ticket off.

They say bad luck, like its more beneficial counterpart, comes in threes. Have I had my three now?

And take note, all this has happened since I stopped smoking. It may be time to pick up the weed again.