Then Again...

I think the doctor's office should start giving me frequent flyer miles. How long has it been since my hand was out of a splint, 5 weeks??? And yesterday I broke my arm, and possibly messed up my elbow joint as well, we'll see what the orthopedist has to tell me.

And I can cry here right??? Because honest to God the first words through my brain as I lay there on the pavement were "The swim meet!". Well, after a few other choice words that is. I spent yesterday morning doing some block starts, I've been tapering off all of my Crossfit workouts and was feeling so strong and ready. My stroke has just felt so good lately, like I found a perfect groove and rhythm. I was really looking forward to hanging out with my teammates and taking part in this meet!!! And then karate, I'm entering the home stretch for my black belt and no I have no idea now what's going to happen with that. wah wah wah. It would be easier to be a couch potato at times like this.

I guess it's a good thing that the only magazine in the waiting room had an article about Chad and Darfur because if there's one remedy for feeling too dang sorry for yourself it's looking at a photo of a mom and her children living in a tent a thousand miles from their home. In the grand scheme of things, this is a minor thing.

Still it comes down to.... why me? What did I do in a past life that in this life I get to learn about all the nuances of different kinds of pain? Broken bones and dislocations, burns, abrasions, puncture wounds, concussions, and what it feels like to chop the end off of your finger with gardening clippers. No wonder I can't watch mob movies... I'm like a one-woman self-wrecking crew and sometimes it just pisses me off, at myself mostly.

Oh yeah, how did this happen? Out for a nice little run with the dogs and just like in that movie "Up", dingbat dog #1 sees a squirrel, loses her mind, and goes right between my feet, clotheslining me with the leash so fast that I was on the ground before I knew what hit me. Sigh.