I knew there was something I'd been meaning to write about for a couple of weeks. Predictably, now that I've remembered what it was, the urgency with which I was trying to recall it seems a little OTT. It's about varicose veins. Yes. Disappointing.
Anyway, a few weeks ago, Paul introduced me to a lady who is a massively successful, well-respected, authoritative and scary vascular surgeon who told me that the aforementioned urban myth is founded on absolutely nothing, and that I can cross my legs with gay abandon in future. I tried hard to ignore the degree of disbelief in her voice that anyone aged thirty with a fairly comprehensive education had managed to be sucked in by such unfounded claptrap, but despite my best efforts, I was left feeling a tad idiotic. But let's concentrate on the positives: although I'm still convinced that I'll go varicose in future, I'm relieved that the comforts of leg crossing won't play a part in the ordeal and consequently - is't possible? - I now enjoy sitting down even more than I used to.
How's that for a dangling preposition?
Hello, just came across you blog via Brit out of Water and wanted to publically let out a huge sigh of relief. I have been labouring under the misconception for a good 20 years at least that by crossing my legs I am ensuring varicose vein certainty for myself. Now you tell me its not true! Hooray! I really, genuinely feel much better about my leg crossing sins now. Nice blog by the way.
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