I did think I would be good to go for the match against Lyon in 2 weeks time but the physio was less confident today. I spent 20 minutes lying on my side with nothing but a t-shirt and a piece of paper towel to protect my modesty as the physio sent electro-magnetic pulses through my hip/bum via a metal instrument which he massaged my backside with. Awkwardness was kept at bay with chat about how he went to University in Brussels because his results weren’t good enough for France. Enterprising chap. Just going to have to take it each day at a time, hopefully I’ll be running by the start of next week. The good thing is there is another 2 weeks off after this match which does make taking a risk on my fitness slightly easier.
As I was suffering in a cold bath, I realised I was sharing it with a rather large spider. So I scooped it out and let it run free, Attenborough that I am. Then some big hooker raises his heel above the creature, surely he won’t, surely not in the shower, I wince. He brings his heel down hard on the beast, scrapes off the remains and bombs into the hot bath. They make ‘em hard out here.
I made my return to class yesterday morning having missed 4 days due to immobility or appointments. The prof seemingly missed me, glad to have her ‘chou-chou’ back. From what I gather, this is some sort of teacher’s pet. In our class we have two boys who are ‘coco’, Omar the Saudi Arabian and Juan the Venezuelan. Whether this is French casual racism or not I can’t tell. Though I’m inclined to think it probably is... Anyway I’m the ‘chou-chou’ and that makes Harry the Colombian very jealous and me very red.
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