Better days

I am, admittedly and despite my posts of late, experiencing better days. It’s been almost two weeks since 2,426 word dissertation on the Marine Security Guard program and I’m seeing things in a new light now. My problems did not lie in the things around me, but rather the downward spiral my life was taking as I neglected my workouts, cycling, and personal time. A man needs his time and I, for one, value my time more than anything else.

With the command visit a mere four days away and the semi-annual inspection following less than ten days later, I find myself doing what I’ve always done in stressful times: slowing down. The more I run and the more I try to get things accomplished, the more things tend to fall apart, get screwed up, or get overlooked altogether. With our recent move to temporary quarters and the upcoming visits from headquarters, I found myself sacrificing my gym routine and mountain biking time, the two most important elements of my life. The good news is I’m back in the gym getting my pump on for all da honeys in Cali, and making a conscious effort to ride even when I’m short on time or the weather just plain sucks.

But I’ve hit a snag. A couple days ago, on a routine ride to the new Marine house currently under construction, I wiped out. It was a pretty simple endo at low speed and I walked away with minor injuries. I got a good bit of road rash on my left leg and plenty of cuts and bruises from getting wrapped up in the bike frame on the way over the handlebars. I executed a nice little tuck and roll, as usual, and popped back on my feet without so much as a backward glance to the skin still littering the sidewalk. I impacted in the roll with my left shoulder first, and I felt a little twinge in my middle back as I stood up. I thought nothing of it.

Today I was getting in a quick shoulders and traps workout before duty and began with seated military dumbell press. I finished up my first set of 8 with a weight a bit too heavy so I dropped it five pounds and started on my second set. After only 3 reps something went terribly wrong. I didn’t hear or feel a snap, pop, tear, or crack but my back suddenly gave out. I dropped the dumbbells to the bench and stumbled, gasping for breath, into the living room in hopes another Marine could pop my back into place. No such luck. I felt as though a strap had been placed across my chest and middle back and was crushing me. I couldn’t breathe right. I lay motionless on the floor until my breath came back, crawled to a standing position with the aid of a chair, and went to work at the embassy.

Less than eight hours later I’m having trouble walking without my legs giving out. My right arm and leg is slowly going numb inch by inch. I can’t stand or sit upright without a serious crook to my posture or take a full breath without constricting pain. The evening looks grim.

Tomorrow I visit the doctor to determine if amputation at the neck is a feasible option, or if they will have to put me to sleep and tell God I died.

This is Jayme, your inconsistent intercontinental blogger of worldly proportions, signing off for what is sure to be a painful night’s sleep. Wish me luck.

Postscript: Even though I’m gimped up like a 60 year old man, I’m still in good spirits. It’s takes a special breed of man to be injured and happy as long as he’s doing something he enjoys, and that breed is called MARINE.

Semper fi, killers.

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