Ten-year anniversaries are generally a good thing. A couple's ten-year wedding anniversary. A child's tenth birthday. The ten year anniversary of Margaret Thatcher's death (coming up in 2023 – don't forget it).

But this year, currently 2019, marks the ten-year anniversary of something bad in my life: a weird discomfort/pain in my right abdomen. It started in 2009 and it still hasn't gone away now, a decade later.

How the problem began

Let me tell you how it started. In May 2009, I started working as a postman. I couldn't find any better work (youth unemployment rates were reaching a record high, thanks to the bankers who had fucked up the economy).

I thought being a postman would be easy. You just walk up and down a few drives, what's the big deal? I imagined myself walking up drives, whistling a merry tune as MILFs eyed me hungrily from their windows. Sure, the weather would be bad at times – but that was also part of the appeal. I like rain and as long as I was wearing a raincoat, I'd be fine.

And boy, let me tell you, how wrong I was. Being a postman is hard. I had to ride a heavy bike loaded with mail from the delivery office to start of my route (this alone was 1.7 miles, and there were hills too). Then I would spend 3-5 hours delivering the mail, again, by bike. And finally, I had to cycle back to the delivery office, up the hills I had come down on.

It's hard to describe how difficult the hills were. The hills were awful and some days I didn't have the strength to cycle up them; I would have to get off my bike and talk it up the hill instead. On other days I pushed myself mercilessly, peddling hard like a deranged Lance Armstrong.

On the first day of working for Royal Mail, I almost fainted. That's how hard it was. However, I stuck to the job because I didn't have any other way to earn money. I also didn't want to feel like a failure.

Then, after five months of cycling with a heavy, loaded bike up and down hills for five days a week, I began to develop a pain in the side of my abdomen. Strangely, it was only on my right side and not my left.

How the problem progressed

I kept a diary during this period of my life and here are all the relevant entries:

2009-10-28

I have goddamn pain my side. From riding a bike with a lot of mail in it. I've turned my round into mainly running, instead of cycling, and I'm doing stretches, but it's getting worse.

2009-11-05

My side isn't as bad as which must be because I've didn't use my bike as much.

2009-12-06

The pain in my right side is back, a little bit. Probably due to running today

2009-12-08

My back and side ache.

2009-12-10

Work was long today. Six hours, even know I'm only meant to work five hours. [...] There were more packets today than ever before. My right side discomfort is back, I thought it had gone after I switched to running on my round instead of using my bikes are much. It got really bad at the end, but I cycled through it! I probably should have taken a break. But it was like 1:55 PM at the end and I wanted to get back before the office closed. [...] This fucking damage in my side. I don't have the body for manual work. I'm too skinny, not muscular enough. The muscles I do have are being overworked. It's a shame as I thought I had it under control today. It is just as I got to the end of my round, it got worse.

2009-12-12

I should definitely go to Canada next year. Anything to stop this damage in my side getting worse. Maybe I should see a doctor about it.

I eventually did see a doctor about it, in February 2010, four months after the pain had begun. The doctor (Dr. Thomas Knight at Northbourne Surgery) just shrugged his shoulders and told me to take paracetamol, "like everyone else does". That was a typical NHS response – if you're not actually dying, then there's nothing wrong with you. Next!

So I kept doing this route until over a year had passed, until finally in May 2011, Royal Mail started banning bicycles. I'm not sure exactly why – some people said it was because bikes were dangerous, others claimed that bikes were too small to carry all the parcels we had to deliver. Anyway, Royal Mail redesigned all the routes for walking instead of cycling and I had an easier round from then on.

Finally, in September 2011, I quit my job as a postman to go travelling, which was the best decision I've made in my life.

But even though years have passed since then, the discomfort in my side still comes and goes. Here are some more diary entries. These entries are from after I quit Royal Mail.

2014-12-06

Today, my girlfriend sat on my right leg and I could feel my side aching because of it. And when I came to stand up, I had to immediately sit back down because of the pain. [...] It's been 4.5 years since this side problem started. I know that it's exasperated by riding a bike (which was what caused it in the first place) - but I'm not riding bikes these days, and the last few days the problem has come back. It means I can't sleep on my right side - and this is the side that faces Girlfriend, so it means I can't hold her for long, because my side annoys me.

2018-03-14

I recently signed up to Girona's city rental bike scheme. [...] I cycled to my Catalan class and back. It was a five to ten-minute bike ride either way. And afterwards, my fucking side hurt. I can still feel it now even though it's been two days since I rode the bike.

Today

The discomfort is still in my side today, albeit only very mildly. I still almost exclusively sleep on my left side because I find it uncomfortable to sleep on my right-hand side. And I can't ride a bike because I know it will worsen the pain in my side. This is a shame as I always liked bike-riding; it's a cheap way to move around.

The good news is that I've booked a physiotherapist to take a look at it and my appointment is a couple of days from now. If he can't help, then the next step will be to see a doctor again and try to get an x-ray.

I'm looking forward to the possibility of finally getting a diagnosis for whatever it is I have. A name for it. You see, once you know the name of something, your ideas can form around it like a pearl forming around a piece of debris. But without a name, you’re facing the great unknown. You can’t google it and you can’t look it up in a book. Whoever came up with the story of Rumpelstiltskin knew the power of names. Knowing the name of something gives you power over it; conversely, not knowing the name of it gives it power over you.