The Rend of an Idea

 

On Sunday night I did something that I had not done in a long time. I had a full-out, tight-chested, fist-clenching panic attack. The reason, the need to make the decision not to go on a vacation to the Florida Keys, a trip that my daughter and I have been researching and planning for since last summer. Why quit, three days before departure time? Pain, pure and simple.

 Just before Christmas I pulled something in my right arm and was provisionally diagnosed with what my doctor called ‘frozen shoulder’. On Tuesday of last week I did something else to the wretched joint, or my neck or something, and have been, off and on, in severe pain ever since. More on than off. I have been snatching naps in a chair (which is lousy for the neck positioning), going to sleep at odd times if the pain eases up, and generally doing no good.

It became clear that sitting in a car between here and Montreal, then sitting in a plane between Montreal and Miami, then sitting in a car between Miami and Key West, was not going to be workable. Any jolt to the arm sent a zap of pain akin to an electric shock across the shoulder and down the arm. And while I could get some relief by wedging the arm between the arm of my chair and my hip, doing anything constructive while in this position was, let us say, a problem. Getting to our cabin by the sea was not on and doing anything while AT the cabin looked just as impossible. Sit by the sea and not go swimming? Be in the Florida Keys and not explore? Be in Key West and not stroll the town? What was the point.

Some few deep breathing spells and nose-blowing ensued as I discussed this with JG. The next day I had to break it to my patient and loving daughter, who was wonderful about everything and has set about undoing all our reservations, tickets and plans. I am going to need a doctor’s certificate and I have an appointment to see my doctor tomorrow. Will report. I hope she is onside since if she is not we are out a pile of money. In American funds. That we paid at a lower exchange rate than is now extant. One more strike against Mr Trump and his hangers-on.

Speaking of which, I have decided to stop reading American news. Just. Cannot. Believe. The. Nonsense. I am looking out some old detective stories and going through books that I think should be donated, but need a rereading first. Perhaps our neighbours will want that pile of newspapers that JG has read piled up in the living room. Perhaps I will play lots of online Scrabble. And nap, as the neck allows. And quit this, as the shoulder and arm demand.