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Work-related injuries

Ed the Editor's personal blog corner

Following on from yesterday's delve into exercise and blogging, I was reminded this morning of other health problems that can be attributed to work.

I suffer from a lack of nasal sensory perception (or deformed sense of smell) due to many years of breathing in paint fumes. (Who can I sue, please?) Unless I go up to something and give an almighty sniff, or unless the wind is blowing a gale into my face, most aromas just pass me by. The world of perfume, for instance, is out of my reach - unless I walk up to a woman and sniff her neck or wrists. Not a good idea for the most part.

However, this lack of smell has its advantages. When I was having coffee this morning there was a decomposing mouse on the porch and apparently it was rotting away. I say apparently, because, unlike Mrs Ed, I couldn't smell the stench of decomposing flesh. This oblivion to stinkiness made me number one candidate for corpse disposal duties, and as I had no desire to snort the stench of a maggot-infested vermin, the incident passed by without a hint of an upset stomach. Maybe deformed smell glands is a bonus, and I should thank the paint manufacturers for their Health and Safety oversights in the early days?

Another work-related issue is the creaky left shoulder. This niggle is the result of holding heavy paint cans in my left hand, and texturing, plastering, scraping or painting ceilings with my arms above my head for hours at a time, day after day, year after year.

Before the joint started to wear out a bit, there were a few advantages to this abnormal behavior. Like many painters, I could beat almost anyone at arm wrestling. How funny that a "weedy" Painter could whip a bricklayer, but it was true for the most part. Also, when I went to classes, I could hold my hand up longer than anyone else, so I always got to ask my questions!

I went to a gym once under duress (they are so boring) and the instructor guy had me bench-pressing weights to gauge what I needed to do for repeat exercises (not that I planned on going back.) He kept adding dumbells and I kept lifting them. I wasn't the world's strongest man or anything, but he was surprised at my novice abilities, and practically called me a liar when I insisted I had never trained before. "I'm just a painter."

But those days are over and I just nurse the shoulder along now till it warms up. If there is any painting to do at home, it takes a bit longer than it should, and when "the guys" feel the need to prove their physical prowess at arm wrestling, I make sure I don't get too testosterone pumped and I sit it out.

Arm wrestling is actually one of the easiest ways for anyone to wreck an arm, but at least if I did get caught up in that macho crap, I wouldn't be able to smell my opponent's sweaty armpits.

Are you nursing any work-related injuries?