It is something that has been in the back of my head since all this nonsense started, but this last week, I finally acknowledged the sad truth. I, Emma Jane Jones will never be able to go on a roller coaster again.
Sure, I was not going on one every week, but I enjoyed the occasional trip on a thrill seeking adventure ride. I do not think I am the sort of person to grow out of it. I know this because Big Sister is older than me and she went to Alton Towers last week. I was quite jealous.
As with anything I am told I cannot do, I want to do it even more. I want to be strapped in, spun around, go upside down and more than anything I want to feel that nervous anxiety in my stomach just before the ride takes off and then again when you come off it and wait to see how hideous one looks in the photographs taken at the worst possible moment. In this circumstance, I usually look like I am pushing out something really big whilst being incredibly comfortable with my double chin.
It is indeed sad that I am now one of the people to whom the warning sign at the start of each ride’s queue, applies. I have a known back problem. Sensibly, if I will not step outside my front door when it is icy, I am most certainly not going to run the risk of paralysis by giving in to childish fancy. This sort of thought probably goes against the key principles of the roller coaster. You are not supposed to think about being a grown up when you are going on something designed to make you feel sick.I have to. And that is the sad truth.
The most frustrating thing is that I spent a period of my life, morbidly obese and thus unable to go on some of the really scary rides because I could not fit in the seats. That my friends is a very embarrassing true story. If only I had known what was to come. Potentially, I would have lost weight sooner and taken up residence at Thorpe Park. After I lost weight, I got to spend a wonderful three days with my family in Disneyland going on all the rides they had to offer and stuck two fingers up at the Tussauds Group, by giving them my money and going on all their rides. It was so much fun, it is was mindless and I felt free.
Now, My Myeloma dictates that this sort of fun is no longer possible for me. Unfortunately, any thrill seeking is going to have to be done by broadening my mind. Fun.