Sea Level, Summer Sweators & Tibias

You know, one of the things that I most fear as a result of all this medical drama is the “resetting” of my physical sea level.

Allow me to explain.

I’ve never been someone you’d expect to see competing in triathlons but I’ve always been pretty active or occupied or engaged in someway, I’ve always been hyper and I’m sure that had I been born within the last 10 years I would have been old friends with every ADHD drug know to man… adderall,  concerta, daytrana, dexadrine, focalin, methylphenidate, metadate, ritalin, strattera, vyvanse…. I wouldn’t stand a chance, I’d be McMurphy after the lobotomy, waiting for the Indian to smother me… (Cuckoo Nest reference) The fact that I was born when I was – means, rather than taking pills – I spent a decent amount of time getting yelled at, despite that, to this day I very seldom sit still, at the very least, my leg will be bouncing up and down jackhammer style… drives everyone I know mental… I seldom even realize I’m doing it.

However, these past few months, those of you most aggravated by my perpetual motion will be happy to know – it’s been radically reduced as has ever single other scrap of physical activity. That’s what I mean by resetting my physical sea level, what if after this all finally is taken care of and I’m well into recovery, I have been inactive for so long, I can’t get it back. I mean what’s next, one of those little tiny elevators you sit on that takes me up the stairs, one of those easy chairs, where the whole thing lifts up for people with trouble standing… then one of those big upright bathtubs with a door.. then it’s followed by super close and convenient parking spots at malls and attractions… hey…. wait a minute… sweet parking – everywhere, everytime…

It’s pathetic how weak and easily fatigued I get right now, doing not very much at all. Of course the less I’m able to do, the less I do and the weaker I get, which means I do less and get weaker and it becomes a vicious cycle. I try and fight it, but I’m paddling my canoe with a tennis racquet… The other concern is with the resetting of my thermostat, before I was always hot, always.. I’m talking T-shirt and shorts in the winter, desperate to claw my skin off in the summer. But since, “the darkness” I often can’t get warm, I actually use a throw blanket watching TV at night… OK now look, you are privileged here, plenty of these things I talk about, are embarrassing, fearful and concerning — to me, admitting to everyone and yourself, not only that you are getting old but due to circumstances beyond your control may never get back to where you used to be, is tough… I simply can’t be the guy wearing a sweater in the dead summer heat… I can’t.

All that being equal, the human body is an amazing machine able to absorb staggering trauma and keep going. I’ve heard stories of skydivers whose chute fails to open, they bounce on impact BUT, live – on the flipside, I’ve also heard of people dying because of something they dreamed, we are at one magnificently resilient and tremendously fragile. So I want to believe that when, finally, I’m “better” – that I will be the captain of my ship and fully in control of whatever shape I choose to be in and the decision is not being made by forces outside my control.. that’s all I ask.

It does make one pause to consider that if even elite athletes bodies are prone to damage and malfunction what chance do I have, case in point, with the world cup nearing completion I submit for your consideration the Tibia, basically the shin bone and what happens when one, 185 pound individual tries to stop dead from a full run….


Hey, you're doing it wrong... it's not suppossed to do that...

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