Four Days Until Vay-cay
Meeting a physical therapist tomorrow morning at BorgHealth. Haven’t seen one since I wiped out my back moving furniture in the 80s, but my neurologist passed the buck on deciding what I can do after having my arm in a brace since March, so here we go. Yes, there’ve been no laps since March. No gym since March. Puppy walks are allowed, as long as I remember to hold the leash in the right hand (which my left-handedness usually overrules).
More and more I resemble a jelly donut, and a lack of physical activity and low body image aren’t really helping the depression coming from that whole ‘recession is hurting my business’ thing.
This is pretty much just an alcohol-fueled rant. With a bit of luck the tequila in my system will magically heal my ulnar nerve and get rid of the numbness and weakness in my hand while I pass out tonight. Then I can get back to my life and the meditative aspects of the swimming will help me deal with the realities of the economy. But somehow I doubt it. When the neurologist scheduled me for a four-month follow up I got the hint that life’s just going to suck for a long, long time. At least I’m getting on my way to being too big to fail. Bailout, here we come!