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I am cursed to wear compression socks. Spare a thought for me this summer I am cursed to wear compression socks. Spare a thought for me this summer
(about 16 hours later)
My only consolation is that it feels so damn good to take them off at the end of the dayMy only consolation is that it feels so damn good to take them off at the end of the day
I don’t mean to boast, but I’ve got lovely legs. They are easily my best feature. But – there’s a but – while my right leg is simply perfect, and my left leg is good down to the knee, what comes below that is a proper old mess.I don’t mean to boast, but I’ve got lovely legs. They are easily my best feature. But – there’s a but – while my right leg is simply perfect, and my left leg is good down to the knee, what comes below that is a proper old mess.
It was more than 30 years ago, playing in goal in a cup tie at Amersham Town, that I broke my left leg. “Impressive,” said the radiologist of the X-rays. I spent seven months in plaster and it was a year before I could walk without a stick. Even then, I wasn’t out of the woods.It was more than 30 years ago, playing in goal in a cup tie at Amersham Town, that I broke my left leg. “Impressive,” said the radiologist of the X-rays. I spent seven months in plaster and it was a year before I could walk without a stick. Even then, I wasn’t out of the woods.
The varicose veins soon came along thick and fast. I was told I’d have to wear a compression sock for life. In order to avoid that, I had a couple of operations, which helped for a while, but now I’m back to a compression sock. Mine aren’t the kind of things you can just pick up at the airport; oh no. Mine are class 3, the most viciously compressing of socks, available only on prescription or from specialist online suppliers at prodigious cost. It’s as tight, bluntly speaking, as a duck’s arse. To get it on of a morning, I need a tub of Vaseline and three blokes off a local building site. If there’s no one available, I have to fight it on myself, gasping and cursing. It’s a great workout, but a terrible start to the day.The varicose veins soon came along thick and fast. I was told I’d have to wear a compression sock for life. In order to avoid that, I had a couple of operations, which helped for a while, but now I’m back to a compression sock. Mine aren’t the kind of things you can just pick up at the airport; oh no. Mine are class 3, the most viciously compressing of socks, available only on prescription or from specialist online suppliers at prodigious cost. It’s as tight, bluntly speaking, as a duck’s arse. To get it on of a morning, I need a tub of Vaseline and three blokes off a local building site. If there’s no one available, I have to fight it on myself, gasping and cursing. It’s a great workout, but a terrible start to the day.
And spare a thought, if you will, for compression sock wearers at this time of year. In shorts – or a skirt or dress, for that matter – there are no two ways about it: they’re not a good look. And the class 3s only come in that awful beige, the ghastly attempt at skin colour that is a match for no one’s skin.And spare a thought, if you will, for compression sock wearers at this time of year. In shorts – or a skirt or dress, for that matter – there are no two ways about it: they’re not a good look. And the class 3s only come in that awful beige, the ghastly attempt at skin colour that is a match for no one’s skin.
The one consolation is that, while my instrument of torture makes for a terrible start to the day, it is a wonderful way to finish it. Oh, the relief when the bastard thing can be peeled off as I make ready for bed.The one consolation is that, while my instrument of torture makes for a terrible start to the day, it is a wonderful way to finish it. Oh, the relief when the bastard thing can be peeled off as I make ready for bed.
Adrian Chiles is a Guardian columnistAdrian Chiles is a Guardian columnist
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Adrian Chiles is a Guardian columnistAdrian Chiles is a Guardian columnist
Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here.