I realized my youth had slipped past me, so I joined a gang. Husbands and Fathers, we took to the night on the toys of our youth, seeking the thrill of danger and uncertainty.
We would arrive at work in the morning wearing fresh scrapes and new bruises as badges of honor.
We were living.
I lie there, a grown man, my toy in the gutter, on the slopey streets of San Francisco, the sky spinning above me.
“I think, yeah, it’s broken.” I called out to the voice I heard asking if I was okay.
“Let’s get you up, get you to the hospital.” Said the voice. A stranger, his wife, and my best friend picked me and my dangeling limb off the street, and packed into the car
What luck, this is my life.
A sling around my arm and a prescription for Vicodin later, I sit alone in my room of this third floor apartment and wonder where my youth went.
I’m not much for pharmaceuticals, I avoid them when I can. I don’t like the way they make me feel, like my emotions are not my own. I feel happy and funny sometimes, but other times I feel unmotivated or on the verge of tears.
This is not living.
The most annoying this about my new living situation is the loss of my right hand. Everyday two-second tasks now take problem solving and effort.
Buttoning pants, opening juice bottles, bathing ... all monumental tasks now.
Yet, I am still alive.
This post is a long time coming. I broke my arm quite badly in March of 2012. About 90% of this post was written, photographed and designed in the first eight days of the experience. These events were followed by months of wrist paralysis and surgery and physical therapy due to extensive damage to the radial nerve. This was one of the most scary times in my life, there was no guarantee that I would make a full recovery. I was unsure if I would be able to keep up the daily demands of my profession. Would I be forever disabled?
The lessons learned form this experience were very grave. After recovering from this potentially life altering injury, it became clear to me how fragile my body is and how very important it is to keep it running. If I were to become disabled or die, how could I provide for my family? What would become of my wife and little ones?
Luckily there were no long term consequences for this mistake... There are not many in life that you can say that about.