No good, Spaw. I flatly refuse to wear fishnet tights. What would they think down at the rugby club?

Another laugh: After I made it upstairs, I sat on a kitchen chair for a while, thinking "I'm just badly winded, I'll be all right shortly." Couldn't get comfortable on the chair, so went and lay down on the bed. Couldn't get comfortable on the bed, went and half sat/half lay in a reclining chair. Eventually the only way to reduce the pain was to stand at the back of a chair, with my arms and shoulders (undamaged) taking the weight of my torso.

After a while I started shaking and sweating, and thought, "Gee, I might be going into shock." I decided not to ring an ambulance, on the grounds that if I was on my feet, I didn't need one. I could have rung the bloke acroos the road, but I would have had to bend to lift the phone book to check his number, so I rang my sister, who lives about five miles away. She took me to the hospital, and denies having hit every bump on the way.

Good idea, Kendall - I'll tell her it was her threat to bring her kids to visit me that got me out of hospital!

Peace.