That's what I have been looking at since the Cub camp last weekend.
Technically, that's what I've been looking at for the past number of years, but I have only paid it any great attention in the past week.
After coming back from the Cub camp on Saturday, and catching 2 hours sleep on the sofa while I waited for Fiona to arrive, I managed to completely put my back out. It had been sore since Wednesday, but had eased off and was almost normal by Friday afternoon. Saturday evening consisted of moving from chair to chair with much grimacing and moaning.
But Sunday was a nightmare. Absolute agony trying to get out of bed. Each time I tried it was worse than before. Eventually had to call the out of hours doctor to come over for an NSAID injection and painkillers.
It was Wednesday afternoon before I was out of bed again, and Thursday before some semblance of normality returned. By now its still just sore and I'm not supposed to drive much.
Fortunately I can work from home and its a holiday weekend.
Luckily for me I had Fiona who was able to adjust her schedule to provide the nurse care I needed and Ciaran who was here from Monday afternoon.
"Pain is a sign, not an illness". Apparently, its a sign that you shouldn't sleep outside on the hard ground when you already have a sore back (although 'sleep' is a broad term since it wasn't 4 hours between their last noise and their first noise). Its also a sign that if its that sore, then don't stand up for the next 10 hours.
Every cloud and all that. Fiona managed to affirm that she made the right career choice in choosing to be an accountant and not a nurse.
