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!