bit of a disaster

Yoga and I had a good run. But it looks like I’m out of commission now. I was starting to think this wasn’t ever going to happen. I started to have hope that in all those planks and wild things that my wrist was going to hold out. But the shooting, stabbing pain reared its ugly head again last night and there will be no more down dogs or chaturangas for me. I have had a strange, rather silly wrist injury for a while. Something about a bone being too long and severe ligament damage blah blah blah. All I know is when I discussed options with the orthopedist I wanted to get the hell out of there when he made a chopping motion on my arm. I started doing pushups on barbells to keep my wrist straight and have been careful not to put all of the weight on that wrist in any poses but I guess I was not careful enough. I’m going to still try to do what I can. I think I would be a bit lost without my yoga. But its going to be difficult when down dog is basically home base, and chatarunga was doing great things for my arms. Looks like my standing, balancing poses are going to get a lot of attention.

But I’m not done. Moving to another extremity, and another activity I was looking forward to doing this week. I dropped a jug of water onto my foot last night. The handle on the bottle gave out and there it went, right onto the top of my left foot. It didn’t even hurt. I apologized to the group for the loud sound, poured myself a glass of water and hung out for a while. A few minutes later my shoe felt strange so I lifted up my pant leg to adjust the strap and BAM! Huge, I’m talking, I-like medical-shows-and-terrifying-diseases-and-blood-doesn’t-creep-me-out-but-this-made-me-dry-heave-a-little kind of huge swollen mass on the top of my foot. It was actually pretty amazing. And annoying, it didn’t hurt until the skin had to stretch over twice the area it usually does. First I thought “Shit!” then like the good daughter of a nurse “RICE” Rest. Ice. Compression.Elevation. Well we were just on our way to walk to dinner. Rest was not to be had. And this is Mombasa. Ice? Not a chance. Compression? I know I brought ace wraps, I thought I brought Ace wraps, damn, Ace wraps didn’t make it back in one of the rounds of packing. I can picture them now sitting in the papasan chair thousands of miles away. Eff. Elevation ok I can do that. When we get to the restaurant I’ll put my leg up. Somehow one out of four doesn’t seem great.

To top it all off, my lungs are already angry. When I went to Cuba for a week a couple of years ago I came back with some sort of pneumonia-esque lung issues. Pneumoia .From the Caribbean. Make sense of that. Turns out my asthma riddled lungs I wrote about earlier about are very displeased with the diesel and the charcoal burning that fills the air in this city. After a full day of walking around I can feel my lungs get tight, my breath shorten a bit as the air burns a little going down. My only respite is the fact that at night the fresher air from the coast blows through my room and I wake up feeling a little better. I am nervous that I’ve only been here a few days and am already feeling it and still have more than two months to go in air like this.

Like I said medical disaster. And this is only the beginning.