Unlike father unlike son

My Mum used to say that my Dad (a former cross-country runner) would often wake her up in the middle of the night by running in his sleep. His legs and feet going like the clappers. When woken and asked to explain he would mumble something about running across the fields and ditches of his native East Anglia.

I used to think that was quite sweet, and in the same way as my pet cat flying off to chase mice in the sky, I often hope that the afterlife for my Dad might include a few lengthy runs particularly as he isn’t as mobile as he used to be.

I was woken up last night. Even though I have been taking my Amitryptiline pills for neuropathic pain, my legs and feet decided to ignore them and they kept me awake for a long time in the early hours.

It’s hard to describe how neuropathic pain feels, and it’s different for different people. Sometimes they feel as if my legs are made of sponge and they are gradually being wrung out. Sometimes it feels as though they want to curl and shrivel up like a burning match. Sometimes it feels as though a large concrete slab is being placed on them imperceptably slowly by just a micron or two every minute or so.

Last night it felt like they just wanted to detach themselves and run away, running to catch up with my Dad on his ploughed field.

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