Lumpy legs and a football cure for bad posture (Rousse)

I showed the lumps on my legs to my office-mate BR.

‘You’d better get those checked by a doctor’ he said.

I replied that I would do so – just as soon as I got dressed.

Forty-five minutes later I was still procrastinating, worried about my lack of preparation for the next academic year. I still needed to clean my teeth so I made my way to the ladies lavatories. BR followed me, much to the annoyance of the other women there. They made it clear that this was no place for a man.

When I eventually reached the doctor I forgot to mention my leg lumps. Instead we discussed my posture, and the doctor prescribed a football for me to wear under my skirt.

The football got in the way when I went running through the park with friends in York. HJ and her husband RJ watched me struggle. (I didn’t recognise RJ at first because he had shaved off his beard and looked so much younger.)

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