Lady Bracknell learns that she is a hypocrip
It being the servants’ weekend off, Lady Bracknell, in contravention of the direct orders given to her by the osteopathic gentleman, decided to wield the vacuum cleaning device in a staunch, if somewhat amateur, manner. She reasoned that the risk to her lower back thus engendered would be of a lesser magnitude than the potential damage to her own – or to her feline companion’s - feet, should either of them tread unwittingly on the splinters of glass.
It was not until some hours later that the protestations of Lady Bracknell’s back and hip against being so abominably ill-used were felt to their fullest extent. As a consequence, Lady Bracknell slept but little, and has therefore struggled to retain her wonted fortitude of spirit.
In correspondence with her great friend, Viscount Biscuit, Lady Bracknell admitted the error of her ways. The Viscount rightly chided her ladyship for treating her impairment in such a cavalier manner. Almost with the same breath, however, he admitted that he has taken similar risks himself, and branded himself a hypocrip.
Having given the matter some thought, Lady Bracknell is forced to the reluctant conclusion that she too is a hypocrip. On very many occasions, she has advised such of her intimate acquaintances who are somewhat frail themselves to take great care; to do everything in their power to avoid exacerbating the effects of their impairments unnecessarily; and to refrain absolutely from returning to their place of employment until such time as they are entirely fit to do so. This advice has always been sincerely meant, and Lady Bracknell believes it to be both sound and sensible. And yet frequently, when it comes to her own person, she flagrantly ignores its precepts.
Furthermore, when Lady Bracknell contrasts the advice given to her by her enfeebled friends with their frankly reckless approach towards their own impairments, she has no option but to recognise that each and every one of them is, to a greater or lesser extent, a dyed-in-the-wool hypocrip.
Readers who are themselves physically frail, and who feel qualified to offer a rational explanation for this universal tendency of their peers towards hypocriptical behaviour, are warmly invited to submit their theories via the “comments” facility.
(“Viscount Biscuit” is, of course, merely a nom de web. The particulars of the gentleman in question’s true identity are, however, entirely safe with Lady Bracknell.)