Game of spinal Kerplunk has been no fun for me

■■Examiner columnist Denis Kilcommons has just undergone spinal surgery which he says appears to have been successful. Ever the professional he sent us his latest column – penned before the operation – from his hospital bed. Get well soon, Denis! He promises normal service will be resumed on Monday.

FOR my second MRI scan (Magnetic Resonance Imagery), I wore a pair of sky blue Reebok trainers and a tracksuit, as if I was contemplating jogging part of the way home. Sadly, nothing could have been further from the truth, which is why I was in a wheelchair: I couldn’t walk.

The scan was conducted in a Sheffield hospital and the wheelchair was courtesy of Holmfirth Rotary Club. I borrowed it for three days until the one I bought online arrived. I’m thinking of fixing an aerial on it with a Davy Crockett hat on the end and painting go-faster stripes on the frame.

It’s been a funny old 10 days since my right leg joined the left in solidarity to give me instant pain with every attempted step.

“How does this compare, on a scale from one to 10, with 10 being childbirth,” a female paramedic asked last week. Without wishing to be disparaging to pregnant ladies, I would put it beyond 10 and halfway up the Richter scale.

I explained to the MRI technicians that the pain in my right leg was constant and got worse when I was lying on my back. Which is a bit awkward as that’s the position I needed to adopt as I was slid inside, like the jam in a doughnut.

There is no pain during the scan, just a lot of noise. But every minute the agony in my right foot increased until I was hanging on as if undergoing the last selection test for the SAS. The relief when it was over. Had I qualified for a cap badge of a winged dagger above the motto Who Dares Wins?

My consultant phoned that evening after looking at the results. My condition had got worse, he said. The original problem, that had caused sciatica, was a protruding disc. The new scan had discovered another disc had moved, resulting in extreme pain and the inability to even stagger without screaming.

It was as if my spinal column was playing Kerplunk. Pull another one out, the lot will go, and my wife will be able to carry me around in a string bag. And this was happening as hospitals geared up for the coronavirus pandemic with all non-essential ops were being cancelled or postponed. Another fine mess, I thought.

The consultant understood the pain and said he would do his best to fit me into what had suddenly become a busy schedule.

Fingers crossed.