The number of folk I know with dodgy backs is unreal. Well, okay, so I don’t actually know anyone at the minute with any spinal stresses bar yours truly, but I have had to suffer listening to a lot of whining about pulled muscles and dodgy discs in the past.

I’ve always taken my healthy back for granted.

It was never an issue. It seemed pretty robust and strong. I was always perfectly capable of rugby tackling a potential suitor who was trying to make a quick getaway, or contorting under a coffee table to retrieve a dropped bourbon at lightning speed. Five-second rule, y’all.

I wouldn’t mind if I’d snapped my spine in two doing something cool like skydiving or pushing the fridge next to the sofa so I didn’t have far to go in between Game Of Thrones ad breaks but, no, all I did was bend down to pick up a baby’s car seat.

This simple and uncomplicated act has resulted in what I could only describe as semi-incapacitation (can you say that?) and now I’m hobbling about all angry and twisted. Physically I’m all twisted as well.

In an attempt to cure my bad back at home, because I don’t go to the doctor’s “cos I’m well ‘ard”, I employed some traditional and some more “far out” methods. I tried the old ibuprofen but, believe me, that was never gonna work.

I’m convinced over-the-counter painkillers are chalk, sold to con us out of money. I’ve no doubt they have a placebo effect on some people mind you, or a “place-bo effect” as my uber-intelligent mate likes to pronounce it.

Method number two involved alternating between a hot water bottle and an ice pack. That did nothing.

Though now I can squeal in such a high pitch that I actually had a few dogs knock on the door to ask if I was okay.

Damn you, online search engines! You spout your lies and vitriol, mocking me and laughing as I try to alleviate my pain when you know full well it won’t work!

The two Os in google are actually two mouths laughing at us as we search “How do I cure a bad back?” and “animals in clothes memes”.

I enjoy seeing a cat in some corduroys, what’s wong with that?

The only thing that seemed to ease my back was lying on a mountain of softer than soft pillows a la Stewie Griffin. Lying on “pillow world” was like lying on a huge pile of fluffy clouds.

It was snuggly yet supportive at the same time. Well, it was lovely until my eight-year-old screamed “bring the pain!” and ran at me with his elbow and performed some sort of WWE wrestling move.

Nothing is helping my poor old back and I have work again tonight. I’m going to ask my manager to help me construct a back brace out of some toilet roll tubes and cling film.

I get no sympathy at work, however. Being the oldest I think they see me more as a liability and health and safety risk than an asset.

You know what it is, don’t you? You get over 30 and your body just gives up. The young ones don’t care, they’re just as bad as Google.

Take heed and just avoid moving in general after 30, it’ll keep your back safe AND leave you with more time to look at cats in pants on the net.