May 8, 2013
This is almost it…only 2 more essays following this particular tale and I will be transmogrifying The Doctor’s Inn from Speaker’s Corner into Poet’s Corner (and I doubt that one will be any better than the other). I’ve grown tired of prose and I’ll have to tell my readers why…
A few weeks back – I decided to take a Jacuzzi (I have a pretty nice 6-8 seat rock Jacuzzi replete with waterfall on the elevated back patio). So, I heated the puppy up to 102 degrees Fahrenheit (as I invariably do), and, after taking a mere, 2 sips of wine (I often bring a plastic glass of wine to the Jacuzzi and finish the whole glass) – I got into that sphere where I can meditate and loosen the muscles.
After about 30 minutes of bubbling I felt a tad light-headed and thought that it might be time to get out of the tub. So I stood up in the tub; braced my hands on the cover; only to feel a strong buzzing in my brain that reminded me of nitrous oxide experiments. I quickly sat back down in the tepid water realizing I had been in too long. Was I dehydrated? Had The Cold from Hell made its return?? Was that alkaline water I’ve been drinking doing something funky too me??? Or, was it residual effects from the magic, Long Island Brownie???? It sure as Hell couldn’t have been the 2 sips of wine I’d had before getting in!?
I knew I had to get out because it seemed that I had par-boiled my brain.
When I felt composed, I got out of the tub and breathed as deeply as I could; holding the railing next to the tub…
The next thing I knew, I was re-experiencing the earlier buzzing of my brain…but this time, I was underwater and flailing to pull myself up-out-of-the-Jacuzzi (I would be remiss if I didn’t suggest that my guardian angels were again hard at work pulling me out of the tub [in which I probably should have drowned]). My friends and acquaintances all teased me about how my obituary would read: Swimmer Drowns in Hot Tub!
Yet, when I stood again in the tub, I was completely clear headed: so clear headed that I could feel the warm blood pouring down my forehead into my eyes and lips. I had obviously fainted and sliced my forehead open. Then I noticed blood swirling around my torso and realized it wasn’t coming from my head – it was coming somewhere from my right shoulder blade. I got out of the tub, grabbed my towel and began to apply pressure to the gash in my head that looked like it might have taken 4-5 stitches. I called Giti (who was on her daily walk) to come home and have a look at my back. It was then I noticed the pain in-the-back-of-my-head. Reaching back, I also felt excruciating pain in my left elbow (I’m a lefty). There was no blood coming from either spot, however, so I didn’t think I’d cracked my skull or tore something in my elbow. When Giti got back she cleaned my shoulder blade that she suggested looked like ground beef – with white strands of something-or-another sticking out.
I DID NOT GO TO THE DOCTOR! I’ve been concussed twice before and know exactly what a concussion feels like – and like I said, I felt very clear headed; in fact, I felt more clear headed than I have felt in a very long time and concluded that getting a good bang on the head was exactly what I needed…because the worry and paranoia I normally operate under (Recall: most psychotherapists believe that there is somebody out to get them) had quite vanished. Everything about my life and existence had become very matter of fact!
Since the accident, I find that people are writing letters to my beloved Times that echo my sentiments. Even Bill Maher seems to be saying the right stuff to me. And, I’ve developed a peculiar fascination with “South Park”: realizing that Parker and Stone can out crazy me any-day-of-the-week. So I’ve decided that after two more “attempts” – the prose pen is being put up in favor of the poet’s attempts at leaving indelible impressions. I won’t see those 300 essays I was in search of, but like I just wrote: I don’t give a fuck.