In honor of the end of conditioning today, I took off the tape and bandage that had been covering my blistered finger and protecting it from infection. I was shocked to discover the entire area covered by the bandage was an eerie pale white. And wrinkled. And...dead feeling. I honestally couldn't feel anything touching between the two knuckles. I was positive I'd gone and killed my finger or something, or at least that bit of skin. However, my mom said she'd heard of that happening and that time should cure it nicely. And no need for chopping off valuable digits or any such messiness. I was most pleased. As of right now, it looks almost normal...I can't beleive its the same finger. It iches though, which is annoying.
And my quads are totally dead. Standing up hurts like a mother, and I try to avoid it. I also still have a bad headache...but at least I'm not dizzy anymore (or spaced out :D).
As I was leaving practice today, I called scotty to tell him I was going to have to be antisocial tonight because my mom wanted to eat with me. When he answered, I could hear some sort of singing, sung by a female voice. I was rather confused. Laughing, scott quickly explained that rach had wanted (and did, apparently) to sing to me. They had apparently decided to drive out to the field and greet me (and abduct me to Garden State) after conditioning was over. The plan would have worked perfectly had my mom not really wanted me home (I also had all my cash, and my change of clothes, at home...but I get the feeling both of these minor details would have been overlooked.) Then, at dinner, my mom insisted I order a steak instead of my usual hamburger (we were at beaches, where the steak is slightly overpriced...but as I discovered, well worth the money even if you get a crappy waitress who "forgets" to refill your water like 8 times in one night). My mom then took me to get TCBY.
What is important about this evening is not the details, nor even the fact that I was antisocial again. Or that I missed seeing a friggen awesome movie. No, what matters is that I realized how much little things can matter. As I sat in my basement, too sore to move (much less consider driving to find someone) it occured to me again how much people care for me. I don't deserve it, this much I know, but they still persist in doing it. And not just people like my mother, who has that hormonal attachement to her own children. No, these are people making a choice of their own free will to give a damn how johnny feels. And they don't even realize how touched I am that they would do. This almost feels like getting cookies. Not as powerful (it lacks sugar, after all ;D) but strong nevertheless. Love is a beautiful thing.
I am now going to go watch yet another movie (I just finished Unbreakable) and contemplate activities that I would desire to do tomorrow, since I won't be able to attend Bogrande's lineman extravaganza. Wanna do something? Leave me a message on aim or call me...I can almost guarentee you I'll be in no mood to be using the phone (getting up will take all my strength) but I fully intend to enjoy the day to the fullest.
Posted by Viper37 at August 19, 2004 11:30 PM