Near-near-death experience

Tuesday night…around 10:30 PM…I am typing this post while sitting pool-side in a canvas chaise lounge, my wireless-enabled PowerBook resting in my lap. A gentle nighttime breeze is caressing my slightly sunburnt skin. Flames from a dozen or so tiki torches dance around the perimeter.

I’m actually not at my hotel. I’m at a much nicer one down the street. I probably shouldn’t be here, but as long as you act like you are supposed to be here, no one bothers you. (Plus, it is the same hotel where we will be attending the conference, starting on Thursday.)

This morning I made my way out to the beach. I waded into the water, and paddled around a bit. To my annoyance, I noticed a bit of a sharp pain in my left big toe as I was scissor-kicking. About four months back, I think I fractured my toe, but I never bothered to go to a doctor about it because it didn’t hurt when I walked or ran, only when I flexed it a certain way, Also, there was no external evidence of any kind of injury.

So, anyway, I decided to make my way out to the edge of a long lava-rock-boulder jetty. Silly, stupid Michael decided to jump off of the jetty and swim diagonally back to shore. As I started swimming, the pain in my toe became excruciating; I could barely move my leg through the water. I’m not a particularly strong swimmer to begin with. When I realized that I was still less than halfway back to shore, I started panicking a bit, even though part of my mind was screaming at the other part, “Don’t panic!” I floated on my back a bit, trying not to take in too much water. Slowly, but surely, I eventually made it back to shore. More embarrassed, I suppose, than anything.

Let’s just say, I don’t think that I’ll be doing that again. Also, a trip to the doctor for an x-ray is in order as soon as I return.