I open the front door and step into my house, a pile of letters lie on the doormat, bills for Mr. & Mrs, I laugh out loud, in a bitter kind of ironical way. As I walk through the hallway I pass a bunch of family photos on the phone table, I pause and glance … More The Confessions of a Rambling Man Chapter 2
Being the recollections of a fifty something English man that finds himself in unchartered lands By Adam Nieve The year is 1992, Paul Newman & Elizabeth Taylor present the Oscar for Best Movie to Silence of The Lambs, four Police officers are … More The Confessions of a Rambling Man
I don’t know about you but this Rheumatoid Arthritis business is a bit daunting to say the least, why do the simplest thing have to turn into a saga?
Take for instance getting an X-ray … More X-Ray
My eyes grow weaker with the passing of the years and yet somehow I find beauty in the smallest of things where once I raced by. The voice that once boomed has grown less insistent, my ears better at listening, I learnt to recognise the fool & the sage Wise enough now to see them … More Growing Older
Saturday morning and even before six am the sun streams over the rooftops of North London and through my bedroom windows. Despite my ailing body, arthritic – worn out & decrepit telling me all is not well the sunlight streaming through the glass sings a different song. The absurdity of these last few mornings – … More Up above the chimney pots
Welcome to another thrilling instalment of Martin’s arthritis diaries. Well it’s been an illuminating week, a visit to the hospital has brought news which I was not expecting, I require a new hip, apparently one of the two that I came with is what is colloquially known in the trade as totally fuc*ed. Also an operation on … More Hippy Shit.
Tuesday morning eight a.m. & I creak the twenty steps to the bathroom for morning ablutions, my stick aids my faltering steps, knees and ankles remind me if I needed the prompt that my rheumatoid arthritis didn’t disappear by magic overnight. Business completed I open the skylight and poke my head out of the window, … More Starling
The days and the months are racing by and though I feel their passing my arthritis has this habit of subsuming any notion of time turning day after day into a Groundhog Day kind of repetition. My daily task more often than not just trying to cope with the pain in my joints and get … More Plan B Thursday.
As one of my favourite F words* Friday has to be up there in the top ten, this no doubt stems from the idea of it being the end of the working week – the point at which one relaxes after five days of labouring away, though of course I’ve not worked a proper week … More F is for Friday
Welcome once again to a missive from the rooftop garret of Martin, aged 57 3/4, rheumatoid arthritis warrior. To begin with I should say that today didn’t start well, I woke at an ungodly hour from a bad dream. This one featured the Big Ex*. Now this is a rarity, I do dream about women … More Monday Missive M.A.D.
