The Ill Street Blues

Surfing generally makes me smile and puts me in a good mood. But this has not been the case of late. It's not that anything about the surf has changed. I am the problem.

I am surfing in pain.

I don't mean I have an ache here and there. I mean real pain. I mean pain that makes me hobble out of the water. I mean pain that I can't ignore.

I am in pain.

Now, this is not anything about which to be concerned. Of course, I've been hurting enough to start the "woe is me" chorus. My right hip is a mess. I've been worried that the pain meant I would soon need a hip replacement. My bionic knee hurts too. And, of course, the ankle is the source of much pain.

My shit hurts.

I did quite a few days wallowing in the world of "woe is me". I was certain that all of the parts that hurt were something about which I should be gravely concerned. I even convinced myself, for a day or two, that the recovery from the knee replacement was easier than the recovery from the broken ankle. Then I came to my senses, remembering that I did, in fact, suffer from horrible hip pain after the knee replacement. Back then, I did worry about needing a hip replacement. I also had an IT band issue that was so bad that I was only able to find relief with seriously painful deep tissue massage. I conveniently forgot that, huh?

That's how I knew I was tripping.

I will get through this. My stoke will return. My hip will stop hurting. My knee won't be complaining. My ankle will do what I ask of it and be pain-free.

In the meantime, though, I bide my time while I wait for my stoke to return. Pain has a way of stealing stoke, I think. Stoke also goes into hiding when too many "professionals" offer too many differing opinions about rehabbing this ankle. I've had too many people essentially talking over one another, too many people thinking they know what's best for me.

At this point, I'm sticking with the doctor. Although he tried to quit me awhile back, he's stayed in touch. I don't know if he told me to start surfing because he knew it was what I needed or if it was because he knew it was what my ankle needed. A nurse friend, who's a surfer, told me today that he thought it great the doctor told me to surf, saying it was best to get this joint moving now even though doing so is painful.

Four screws and a plate with a side of bad attitude.

This, too, shall pass.