Monday, July 05, 2004

Sticks And Stones

Ow!

I hurt.

My ankle hurts. It's been a month since I wrecked it playing softball, and it still hurts. Granted, I haven't been going easy on my ankle, especially the past few days, what with scrambling up and down cliffs at Black's Beach and such. But still, would it be hurting this much if it was just 'soft tissue damage?' Thus, I'm wondering if my doctor's surmise was correct: I chipped a bone.

And, in the wake of all those chest blows delivered by Biker Guy two nights ago, I hurt. As in, 'it only hurts when I laugh.' Or, take a deep breath, or cough, or move my arm, or when Alpha gives me an evil and malicious friendly jab to my right pec. So of course I'm wondering, 'did I maybe crack a rib?'

Why would my hypochondria go down that road?

I wonder.

I've never broken a bone. Not all the time when I was growing up. Never had a cast for my classmates to sign. And, growing up during the time when Evel Kneivel's career reached it's apex, broken bones were pretty common. But not for me.

And that fact, that 'un-brokenness,' has taken on sort of mythic proportion for me.

Never a broken bone.

After I ran into that pesky first baseman, as I sat there on the bench with my leg up on the cooler, the most dreadful thing I could think of was, What if I broke it? That would have been problematic, to be sure, what with being in NYC and 90 miles from home and all. But there was something about the prospect of a broken bone that just had me in a cold sweat.

So maybe I do now have not one but two broken bones. A broken ankle bone and a cracked rib. So... So what? "I'll never be the same again" is one irrational thought that comes to mind. "Whenever there's a change in the weather..." That kind of thing.

But there's something almost cool about that. I mean, that would be annoying, but at the same time, like a scar, it would always be a reminder of the events which brought about those injuries.

So that's not it. Or quite it.

I guess it's more the fact that I take it as a sign that my body is getting older. An 'all downhill from here' kind of thing. That I'll have to start treating the physical manifestation of Me with a little bit more care. A little more gingerly.

And I hate that.

I missed out on all those opportunities for Rough and Tumble play as a youngster, and it's been my ardent desire to make up for that as an adult. And now my bones, from the skull beneath the skin on down, isn't up for the challenge? Unfair!

Ah well.

Alpha and I are off to Palm Springs today. And tomorrow, we rise verrrrry early and head to Joshua Tree for some desert fun. Then tomorrow, as we head back to Sandy Eggo to drop off Alpha, we're stopping at he Glen Ivy Hot Springs Spa. Y'know, mudbaths, hot sulphur springs baths, massages, maybe facials or whatever.

If it's true that I have to start treating my body a little better, might as well have some fun with that, huh?


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