Labyrinthitis.
That's what's turned off my gyroscope, apparently. It's an inflammation that leads to water collected in your ear and bringing on all the delightful side-effects I've been bitching about since Tuesday.
Now have pills to pop and infections to defeat and eventually, bikes and rowing machines and other assorted things to get back on.
Today though has still been pretty much woozy and queasy and of course, half-bloomin' deaf.
"Oi!" I said to Sally-Anne after escaping from the doctors. "Got Labyrinthitis. Your bloomin' couch put a Minotaur in my lughole."
"A what-now in your hoohah?" she said.
"A giant man-bull in my Eustachian tubes," I elaborated.
"Yeah...T, man, I'm calling Amnesty, cos that's one tortured mo'fo of a metaphor..."
"What?" I asked, feigning double deafness.
I'm not allowed to drink alcohol, drive or operate heavy machinery.
Damn...there goes my weekend...!
What all this actually means of course is that far from my original plans of just getting on with the exercising, I'm pretty much bound to sit precisely here on my arse until the ear pops and the Labyrinth collapses.
Wonder if it would help if I fed a ball of string into my ear...
No? Really not going with the Minotaur thing, are ya? Sigh...fine...I thought it was funny...
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