f1d0
|
2010.07.30 00.24
041216
041211
041207
041129
041107
041101
041025
041008
040929
040904
040848
040818
040818 040809 040802 040405 040331 040318 040305 040211 040111 031228 |
041211 short nightmareI just woke up with super duper pain. I had a dream, or nightmare, or something. I was chasing a big bug out of the house. It landed in the towels, in the clean laundry. And then, it flew in my face. In my dream, I reacted and swatted around my face. In reality, here in bed, I reacted and swatted around my face. And dislocated my shoulder bigtime. This is a sad story because I'd only just done it earlier, at the swimming pool. I went with Tim and Tom swimming at the North York Memorial pool. I'd actally never been in the facility, except to find out that it was a pay pool. That was last year. It turns out it is free now. So today. I'm there, and I realize I'm afraid of the water. It's been a while since I've been swimming, and the water looked cold, whatever that means. It also looked deep. I was just so nervous. I tried to go into the water a few ways, but in the end sat on the ledge and eased my way in. Still a wrong choice. I really reacted, and dislocated it. Super duper painful. But at some point, I found a place where I could do a Mel Gibson, and knock my shoulder back into its socket. And then it was better than it had been before. I had more mobility, and it worked! Oh, it hurt. And it hurt all of the time. But it was fully mobile. Wow. That was worth it. I was glad I went swimming. Now? I'm not sure. I may have undone all of the good. I don't feel like the most recent socket insertion was as good as the pool's one. One thing you get with this kind of injury is fear. As you approach the bad point, you get afraid. I'm very afraid. Like everything is the wrong choice now. I'm tired but not falling asleep. And I have to get up in 90 minutes to be ready for this appointment at 945am in the east end, where I'll learn about a new way to use weights and circular motions too. Thank you Dave Alker. But for now? I'm alert again. Afraid to sleep. That's all I know.
|
Return to the present essays