2 down, 4 to go?

My leg injury turned out to be more severe than I'd imagined, I think in part that was due to the old me forgetting that I am on blood thinners which make bruising far worse.

The most likely thing that I have done is to suffer a very severe dead leg/charley horse. Judging by the pain and the descriptions online and wherever else I can garner information, its a Grade 3 one and that's going to take some time to heal. I've been told up to six weeks...so far I've just about managed to get through 2 weeks. I have this fist sized hard lump of damaged muscle at the top of my thigh that just won't loosen up and be reabsorbed.

So I've been mainly sitting in my bed with my leg extended trying to do what little mobility exercises I can so as not to let the muscles waste away completely. Although I suspect that's already been happening. I'm slowly reducing the intake of the painkillers that they gave me. Its not so much pain anymore but discomfort as my body tries to reabsorb the blood and the muscles and tendons stretch out.

Its given me time to read and reread books and to watch DVD's and it hasn't been too bad checking out from the outside world of which so far my only experience and participation has been visits to the hospital to check on the level of my thin blood.

I think my anxiety level has come well down by not having to worry about getting here or there in a hurry or concern myself with trying to find work because I wouldn't be able to attend an interview anyways.

I've probably said it before but I've also realized that I've left myself short in terms of friendships outside of 'work friendships' that very rarely if at all continue outside of the job when it has finished. I find that somewhat disappointing but am also aware that you can never really build a friendship with people that you work with when you're competing for the same job the majority of the time.

There are things in life I'd like to and quite how I get to achieve those is another matter. For example I have always wanted to go and live in America but am no longer quite so sure how I'll do that. I am beginning to think that perhaps I'd like to teach. I still harbour ambitions realistic or not to act. At this moment in time though I feel I need to explore the possibilities of art.

In the meantime it is becoming increasing nearer to the date of a new term at the local university where they are expecting me, crutches or not I'm actually starting to warm to the idea of studying again.

I've been debating whether to go Full Time or Part Time but am opting for the former to immerse myself into it and hopefully now older and maybe wiser to have a better university experience than when I was 18 all those years ago when I didn't rate studying.

Although I still wish I could get my shit together a whole lot more than I have.

?

I'm so far from being the person that I'd thought I'd be.

convictions

Its 513 in the morning and I'm in pain, my leg hurts and my chest hurts both muscular strains. My mind is keeping me awake too as I lie in the near darkness trying to answer the questions that I cannot find answers to. I am in both physical and mental anguish but it seems I'm not the only one who is looking for answers or doing something on a computer as I can see light behind the 'office' door reflected in my mirror of the room opposite.

I've listened to various songs in the past hour and applied various lyrics to my life. For example from an eighties classics, 'Don't you forget about me' but you know what I feel like a lot of people have.

I'm sitting in bed typing words into this computer and asking myself why?

Could it be this taken from Wikipedia or would that be too convenient?

'Solipsism syndrome is a state of mind in which a person begins to feel that everything is a dream and is not real.

Solipsism is a philosophical theory that all activity takes place within the mind, and therefore there is no reality outside one's own mind. As a philosophical theory it is interesting because it is said to be internally consistent and, therefore, cannot be disproven. But as a psychological state, it is highly uncomfortable. The whole of life becomes a long dream from which an individual can never wake up. Even friends are not real, they are a part of the dream. A person may feel very lonely and detached, and eventually becomes apathetic and indifferent.

Some environments are conducive to producing solipsism syndrome. This state of mind can be easily produced in an environment where everything is artificial, where everything is like a theater stage, where every wish can be fulfilled by a push-button, and where there is nothing beyond the theater stage and beyond an individual's control.'

But then a blog in itself is an act of solipsism but then the fact that the blog is made available to an unseen audience mean that the author is trying to move away from self indulgence or just indulging the self even more?

Holiday!

Well, I decided to try something that I hadn't really tried and to learn something new all in one go. Call it mid life crisis or just another part of my mid life indecision as one friend has called it but I went off to the coast to take some surfing lessons. I'd been once almost ten years ago but hadn't had lessons and remembered sore triceps and body surfing one wave in. So this time round I'd been preparing myself by swimming lengths in the pool.

I got to my destination last week (Sunday) and arrived in a tiny village that consisted of a few restaurants and shops for basic provisions and surf wear. There was no bank or 24 hour convenience shop. The other noticeable thing were the signs for Bed and Breakfast outside the houses. The traffic flow was pretty constant in and out of the village of cars with surfboards on their roofs and roof racks.

As soon as I had parked up close to the beach I walked down to the sand, almost immediately taking my shoes off so that I could feel the cool smoothness underfoot. I have an ongoing list of simple pleasures and for me the seaside and sand is one of those. There were surfers coming in and surfers going out even as the light was beginning to fade.

I stayed in a room bigger than expected and paid for one night in one of the many B&B's lining the main street. Was I nervous? A little. Was I looking forward to it? Yes. Did I sleep well? Okayish.

Monday morning arrived and with it the sun. Actually there was no sun there hasn't been any sun this year in England during the summer months. I got myself down to the surf school in plenty of time and changed into my wetsuit and joined my fellow students, we carried our blue 9ft 'Storm Rider' boards down to the beach and were taught the basics on the beach. We were shown how to slide up onto our knees and then to bring our knees up and how to get into the stance or alternately how to pop up straight to our feet from a prone position. Its one thing on a flat beach but another in the sea where everything is moving. The water wasn't as cold as i thought it might be but adrenaline probably played its part there. Our instructor took as out as a group and we lined ourselves up in waist deep water and on his cue all hopped on board and paddled as a wall of white water advanced towards us. I got the wave and rushed towards the beach, I got up on my knees, I raised my left knee, i saw one other student next to me and then splash I went in. The rest of the morning was much the same except with less success of that initial attempt. Towards the end I felt a twinge under my right breast but left the water excited by the prospect of trying to stand on the board.

As Monday progressed the twinge became more painful to the degree that it hurt to breath and reaching for things was painful. Well I had no tricep or shoulder pain so the swimming had covered that but not the chest pain.

Tuesday arrived and with it new conditions and some new students and different instructors for the morning. My painful chest was still bothering me when we took to the water which felt colder or perhaps my general discomfort was just exacerbating everything. The soreness troubled me and put me off enjoying myself, the sea was relatively calm compared to yesterday with the waves less frequent and the white water would break in one area and work itself horizontally as it swept in towards the shore. One thing I noticed from the day before was that there was no time to think about things when the water is coming at you. We'd start in waist high water and try to jump onto the boards on our stomachs and then paddle at times we'd still be trying to move out as the water would pound us or lift us up. The waves may have only been 1 or 2ft high but as they approach you, you lose sight of the horizon. There is no time for existential dilemmas or questioning of why you want to do this.

I never got to stand as the times that I did catch a wave the ride would be over before I could remember where to put my hands or to try to slide my knees more centrally under my body. The pain in my chest moved from the right side to the whole of chest which felt like it was trying to split open. I even had one collision with another student which I remember either him or his board hitting my thigh and at the time I just waved off as a 'dead leg'. The waves never came as fast and furiously as that first Monday and top of which I hurt, my chest ached and my leg was a little sore. Secretly I wanted a day off and I still had three more morning sessions to get to grips with this.

I spent the afternoon beach combing with my injured leg starting to stiffen up, I had hoped that I'd just walk it off but the opposite was happening. If anything it was swelling up and getting harder to walk on. It looked like I'd get that day off and with it a chance to rest my straining chest too. I slept badly that night with pain right across my chest and my leg throbbing.

Wednesday morning arrived and I could hardly walk extending my leg was a problem and it was getting hard to lift it unsupported. The landlady asked if I wanted to see a doctor and I agreed readily. Sometimes you just know when something is a lot worse than it seems and this was one of those. This was the dead leg from hell. Fortunately the car I had driven down in was an automatic because there'd be no way that I could drive a manual in the state I was in. Just getting in and out of the car was sheer agony and took some manoeuvring on my part and face pulling. The doctor saw me but wanted me to go the hospital for a scan as she felt I might be bleeding into my thigh too. Who was I to disagree but just getting in and out and there by myself was becoming more and more painful. I managed to get to the hospital and without a scan the doctor diagnosed it as a dead leg with bleed out probably made more than likely due to the fact that I was on blood thinners too. The remedy was to rest and ice my leg and keep it elevated.

Now either foolishly or wisely I chose to drive all the way home in sheer agony deciding that I would rather suffer at home than in a Bed and Breakfast. I did the 41/2 hour drive in a little over 3 hours, the worst part was putting petrol in the car where it took longer for me to cross the forecourt than put petrol in. I may complain about living with parents but that's why I was heading home because somebody would be able to look after me. I was now at screaming point in terms of pain and of all the nights for them to go out seperately they had gone out when I needed somebody there. I screamed my way to the front door, there was some relief in going up the stairs, I screamed down the phone to my brother and I sat on my bed screaming as I tried to lift my leg up but couldn't. I bit on the duvet, I grit my teeth, I felt tears of pain, I contorted my mouth in pain, I howled and I cursed. in the end it was my brother who had to come over before either parent got back to try and make me comfortable.

So since Wednesday night I've been bed bound on painkillers with a swollen thigh and constant ice packs. From what I gather it takes at least 3-5 days for the swelling to go down and then another few weeks to recover. Would I go surfing again? I'm not really sure, I wish I wasn't so unlucky with the injury though.

MONDAY - went to another hospital for a check, got an x-ray done, got more painkillers but told it may take up to 6 WEEKS to heal properly!

Parlez vous Francais?

I have been watching French films recently and I can't seem to get enough of them. Whilst the majority of them are set in Paris there is most definitely a very distinct sensibility going on there that is not apparent in cinema from other countries.

I try to think of English films that have characters that are interesting and stories and make use of the city that they're in but am pretty hard stretched to think of really good films.

The trouble is that although loathe to admit it the English really want to be American, they take their lead from American music and film. The big English film release this week is another Mockney Gangster film from Mr Madonna and when the English try to do character studies inevitably they seem to be in Period costume.

I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say here but I just feel there is a charm that is non-existent in today's film makers whose eye is on the prize of Hollywood. And what English films that do get made have such a limited release that blink and they're gone before you get a chance to see them. For example 'Amelie' one can cannot imagine being created other than in France instead we get 'Four Weddings & A Funeral' or 'Bridget Jones'or the other extreme of 'Trainspotting' where's the middle ground?