A horizontal Christmas.


So I finally had the operation. Exploratory knee surgery resulting in a meniscus repair. After six long weeks of being in pain and on crutches, I was delighted to regain conciousness and discover that I was in the first stages of hyperthermia and would be on crutches for another six weeks – at least. Oh and I was still in pain. Oh the pain.

SO. I am now literally a couch potato.  The photograph above is of me lying on the fold out sofa bed. This has been my vista for nearly a week now and shall be for at least another two. Maybe six. The  expanse of time I have spent lying down thus far can be expressed as the following calculation:

Time + Immobility + Tramadol = Opportunity to move this blog to a new self-hosting server.  Add to that a cheeky template re-design and…..DAH DAH (hope you like it?)

However, there is another way of expressing the same sum. A bad way:

Immobility + Tramadol + Time = My wife is now my servant and has a look on her face that is terrifying me. Add the two kids  and…….AAAARRGGHH

Exactly how many times can you ask a woman who has not slept for three years to wet wipe your buttocks before she murders you?  Just how many cups of tea can you ask for, and out of those cups of tea, how many can you get away with not actually drinking before your wife uses one of your crutches to joust you in the face?

These are important questions. Questions that were not answered in the hospital discharge letter. They should inform you these things for heavens sake.  I was told for instance how many painkillers I should take and how to care for my wound etc.  However the letter said nothing, NOTHING about how cross my wife would get if, when she asked me to write the Christmas cards this year, I pulled a face and tutted.  Holy hell they should tell you that.  There should be a diagram of some sort to alert you to the rage. Perhaps a colour photograph of a volcano erupting or of a  silver back gorilla pounding it’s chest and ripping another gorilla’s throat out.

Being a ‘patient’ is much more than just the medical issues for goodness sake. There’s the personal, social and emotional aspect also.  My stitches may indeed be well tended and my pain may well be under control, but if my wife thinks I am ***** and wants to chop-off my Johnson, then it’s all much of a muchness isn’t it.

Think about it, there is no conceivable way to apologise to someone, when no matter what you say, they still have to be your butler for the next six weeks.

“Sorry Darling, of course I’ll write the Christmas cards.” 

isn’t really going to cut it, when your next sentence is,

“Yoo-hoo….can you empty my wee bottle please…hello….HELLO..?” 


“Darling can you pull up my pants and make me some toast please?”

So it appears I am ‘off map’ for the next six weeks. I am charting uncharted and dangerous waters, trying to keep on the good side of my wife and children and trying desperately to not get bludgeoned in my sleep.  Don’t misunderstand, my main carer is very caring and very, very patient. But you must understand, I am an annoying man.

So Christmas 2012 is a horizontal one for me. I will do my best to be a model patient from this point on, but I suspect I will be posting about this again. If you hear nothing from me in a week or so, bring a shovel and dig up my patio please.

©2012 Man in his pyjamas. All rights reserved.  www.maninhispyjamas.com


  1. Oh dear! I feel sorry for both of you. Hope you manage not to kill each other. And keep blogging! It’s good therapy. And makes your readers laugh.

  2. I read this trying to decide where the line between reality and artistic licence was. I am still not sure. Is there really a wee bottle!? I feel for both of you.

    • maninhispyjamas

      Madeleine, I can confirm that unfortunately there is exactly 0% artistic licence in this post. As for the wee bottle, it is going to feature heavily in my next post….. I think. Thank you for reading and for expressing some concern. Merry Christmas.x

  3. Cindy Walker

    Now is the time you really need a MUM – or a substitute one!!!! Dont you have any offers???? Oooooo your poor wife! Get the kids working I say, teach them how to make cups of tea, maybe not…too dangerous, but plastic cups of orange juice etc. etc – could be done!!!!! And……just keep biting your tongue or it wont be only your knee that hurts!
    Hope you will be hopping around soon!

    • maninhispyjamas

      Thank you Cindy. My eldest is just old enough to act as a snack delivery boy. Wifey sets him off from the kitchen with an unbreakable plate laden with titbits. Generally the plate is lighter by the time it gets to me and he has to retrace his steps to find all the items deposited on route. My daughter has just turned 1 and helps by sitting just out of arms reach and either screaming for me to pick her up or sucking on the business end of my crutches.

      I will pass on your sentiments to my long suffering wife. Thanks for reading. Wishing you a Happy Christmas. x

    • maninhispyjamas

      Hehehehehe. The whisky bottle has been confiscated by wifey, who was unwilling to let me swig down the Tramadol with it. Spoil sport. Weeing whilst laying down is a fine art. It’s a game of chicken…how long can you wee for before you get a surprise ‘back-up’.

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