With the flight going overnight, lack of sleep and time zone changes, I think this is the third day of our trip, but I’m not sure how well I’d do on a polygraph test if you asked me that question. Regardless of the day, I’ve tried to squeeze everything into these journal entries that I’ve been writing for the sake of our trip, but who knows? Maybe posterity will get something out of my posting this stuff on the Internet. Or maybe it’ll just save me time and effort to fill my friends in on the details of my trip. Continue reading “Day… 3? I’ve already lost track.”
RICE, RICE, baby…
I can’t believe I didn’t write any blog entries in March. God, I feel unclean… You all have my sincerest apologies, but unfortunately, I have an excuse.
This entry is going to be the short version because the full story could end up being… well, it’s not short. Lots of details, so here’s the summary: I was playing soccer on March 14th and someone kicked me just below my right kneecap. Very hard. It hurt, so I limped off the field and spent the rest of the game on the sideline. That in itself was not a big deal.
When my knee swelled up to the point where you could barely see my kneecap at all, that was a big deal. I spent the next week and a half Resting, Icing, Compressing and Elevating (and for some ungodly reason, I keep hearing Vanilla Ice’s voice in my head telling me to “RICE, RICE, baby…”). In that time span, I went to the doctor, then a knee specialist, had an MRI and eventually learned that the guy who kicked me in the knee sprained my MCL and tore my ACL. (Here’s a picture to show where the damage is.)
That throws the proverbial monkey wrench into my summer plans, but like I said, this is the short version. The most important detail is that along with all the RICEing I’ve been doing since the 14th, I’m scheduled to have knee surgery on April 26th. I don’t have much trouble with my knee while I’m walking, but sometimes I can feel it wobble a little bit. Trust me, it’s not a cool enough sensation to justify destroying your knee ligaments.
I know what you’re thinking. “He can’t play soccer and spends a lot of time Resting, so he’ll have more time to write blog entries from now on!” That’s a pretty solid theory, but if I don’t, I may have another excuse: I’ll be too busy banging my head against a wall to get Vanilla Ice to stop singing.
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Man, that looks like it hurts…
[Originally posted back on March 5th, 2006]
I’d like to take a moment to thank The Powers That Be for making me a sturdy person.
I was playing soccer this afternoon and collided with someone. More specifically, my kneecap collided with his. You could hear the *CRACK* from across the field (at least I assume so—given that I was involved in the accident, I only know it was loud). He fell to the turf. I stayed upright, watching the guy hold his knee and roll around in pain. He needed help getting off the field. I stood around and waited for the game to start up again. Continue reading “Man, that looks like it hurts…”
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Ow ow ow ow ow…
Note to self: If you haven’t played in over a month, haven’t kept up a reasonable level of fitness and decide to join a pick-up game of soccer, do not try to run alongside the better players unless you like taking long baths in ice water afterwards.
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Oh. My. Gawd!
I was waiting for a phone call from someone in Toronto on Monday. In the middle of the afternoon, I did get a call, but I didn’t recognize the number and the area code was 818—San Fernando Valley (a.k.a., Los Angeles). “Who would be calling me from there?” Continue reading “Oh. My. Gawd!”
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GOOOOOOOOAAALLLLL!!!
What a bad way to start the week. (Or end the week, depending on whether you think it starts on Sunday or Monday.)
I’ve been playing on a co-ed soccer team called “Mad Dogs” for about 3 1/2 years now. As a defender, I rarely have the opportunity to score a goal—it’s usually more important to keep the other team from running up the score—but the indoor winter leagues have a shorter field, so I’ve made a couple runs during the last few weeks. I keep thinking, “This could be the week. I could put the ball in the back of the net this time.” Today, I was right. I scored my first goal in 3 1/2 years. And it went in the back of the wrong net.
The other team had a corner kick, so the girl booted the ball down the line right towards the goal. I was the closest player to it, so I ran up to try and knock it away. Unfortunately, I had my body turned in a way so that instead of the ball bouncing back towards the corner, it deflected off my shoulder and directly into the goal. That’s when I said a bad word. It was… well, I did it in the bathroom about ten minutes before the game started (and no, it wasn’t the “f-word”, ya perverts…).
On a positive note, the Super Bowl was tonight! I was really tired and slept through the first half, but thankfully, we’ve got a VCR—I know, I live just a few years past the Stone Age—so I’ll have plenty of time to watch the commercials later. I have to say, my favorite was [insert a good one here]. It made me laugh, it made me cry and it made me hungry for more salsa con queso. With all three of those at the same time… life is good…
