Okay, I tried a new four letter word today: REST. I slept and I stayed in bed for like four hours. Then I slept again. Okay, see, I CAN rest. Admittedly, I spent that time doing emails and then afterward I did two blogs but that is CLOSE to REST right. How about we call that half-rest? Quarter?
There is a new blog post and a new layout at The Postcard Project.
I am at home, as it turns that there are lots of ways to hurt soft tissue, and most of them involve the skin turning funny colors later, but not a lot require a hospital. Not in this province. Oh, about the fall, the wheelchair is FINE!
Last night, I was up late. God, why so many colours of pain?
Sometimes I try to keep my face immobile to pretend the sobbing ain't happening.
Thank you for getting it, the last post, those who did. Thank you.
Right now, even resting is riding the wave. This is a picture of Cyclops the most deadly wave in the world....almost.
Waimea, it was forbidden to even Hawaiians and just the back surf had killed two surfers when Greg Noll went to ride it. His words describe what this disease stage feels like for me. Still alive though. But like Noll on the big killing waves, “Instead of getting smaller as I rode it, the sonofabitch grew on me. It got bigger and bigger, and I started going faster and faster, until I was absolutely locked into it. I felt like I was on a spaceship racing into a void. At first, I could hear my board chattering across the face of the wave in a constant rhythm. As my speed increased, the chattering noise became less frequent. Suddenly there was no noise. For about fifteen or twenty feet, I was airborne. Then I literally was blown off my board."
Greg made a special board. A giant surfboard for giant waves. And December 1969 a series of storms came together from different angles to combine into channeling all power and fury on that tip. Greg went to Makaha where black waves so large they had never been seen before in Hawaiian history were slamming over the beach. Alone on Dec 4th, none of the Waimea surfers daring what seemed sure death, Greg Noll paddled out into waves so large, they made the shore dark. He went on to surf the biggest wave ever ridden, before or after, eighty feet plus, before wiping out.
When stage two of autonomic failure is occurring for over two week, three weeks and there has not been a regular heart beat for how long? It is riding the wave.
Even resting is riding, the chattering noise become less and less. I don't want no noise. I want a bigger surfboard.
8 hours ago