When am I gonna realize that I’m not a gymnast anymore and I’m not 15 anymore? I grew up. (Okay, if you wanna get technical about it, I know of at least one alter who’s 15, but I’m talking about chronological body age here.) I haven’t been either of those things for 10 years, but I keep using my body like I’m still a 15-year-old gymnast.
As a result, I’m sitting here with an ice pack on my shoulder. At kung fu tonight, we were doing this combo where you do a tiger roll (basically a log roll), come up into a deep lunge, and jump up and land on the pad on one knee and elbow. The third time I did it, I guess I landed funny on my elbow and jammed my shoulder into the socket. I’m not sure exactly what I did, but I rolled off the pad and lay on my back trying not to cry or pass out or both. After 10 or 15 minutes, I was able to get back up and do stuff that didn’t involve moving the right shoulder.
When I got home, I called my nurse. She wanted me to go to the ER, but that’s something I try to avoid as long as I’m not dying. So I took an NSAID, and I’m icing it. Pretty sure she’ll want me to see my doctor or go to urgent care if it’s still hurting tomorrow.
On the good news front, though, I heard back from New Therapist, and she’s coming back to work. We’re playing phone tag about scheduling an appointment, but I’m happy she’s back. Saves me from continuing the infuriating therapist search
Also, my kung fu instructor is a nerd! I made a Battlestar Galactica reference, and he got it. Awesome! And I had a nice conversation after class with one of the guys–he’s also new to the area, and we were comparing notes on Northampton. That was nice–I can be social with normal people. And the depression is still miraculously gone. Emotionally, I’m still feeling fucking awesome.