(Note: This happened back in June. Don’t worry, I’m good now.)
By the time I felt the bone slipping it was too late. I’ve been doing P90X for a while, and despite my long history of stupid injuries, this hadn’t yet been the source of one of them. I thought I knew my limits. Clearly, I was wrong.
Up to this point all of my injuries have been for relatively embarrassing reasons. The first time I pulled my shoulder it was while doing a one man scene in high school. The second time was mid stroke while swimming. Time number three was from Richard Simmons.
This was the first actual weight lifting related one. I’d grown sloppy, but that wasn’t the stupid part. Not even by a little. I was in front of my laptop, watching Battlestar Galactica and working out, doing a shoulder tricep extension
when I felt the muscles spasm halfway up into the lift. By the time I dropped the weight, it was too late.
I screamed out in pain as I fell to the floor. I held up my right arm with my left so I could slowly and painfully make my way over to my laptop. Each movement was excruciating. I couldn’t figure out how to pause Battlestar so I just hit mute. This probably shouldn’t have been my first concern.
I grabbed my phone to call someone and then debated if I could set it myself. When I dislocated my shoulder in Michigan that first time, all the doctor had to do was lay me face down and let my arm dangle as he pulled slightly. It’s possible that’s all it would take. Admittedly, the other two times involved heavy amounts of morphine, but why focus on the negative?
“There’s a chance I can pull this off without going to a hospital,” I thought. It was less about the inconvenience and more about not having health insurance and being terrified how much it would cost.
I made my way back to my bed and tried laying on my stomach and slowly lowering my arm. I kept my phone in arms length of my left hand, just in case I started to feel like I might pass out. I was heavily sweating, not sure if it was from just having spent 35 minutes working out or from the intense pain. I kept my arm dangling. It wasn’t working.
It took me two minutes to lift my arm up and get into a position where I could reach my cellphone one foot away from me. On my phone, I googled “I just dislocated my shoulder” and came up with a few results from yahoo answers and YouTube.
I watched the first video, and tried to emulate it. I was standing next to my bed, and knew somehow I needed to get down to the floor with both a pillow and my phone. I dropped my phone on the ground, hoping it landed in the right spot. I wasn’t going to leave it somewhere unreachable. Then I slowly lowered myself and the pillow down, got into position and started the motion. The excruciating pain made me afraid I was making things much worse.
I picked up the phone, resigning that I was being an idiot and should go to the hospital and called up my friend Drew. No response.
“Let me try one more thing before calling someone else,” I thought. I glanced at my computer and saw the muted Battlestar was over, meaning I’d now been trying to fix myself for half an hour.
I searched again
and saw another solution involving standing up and starting with my arm bent towards my body. I couldn’t even start this exercise.
I read Yahoo Answers, and one response mentioned the importance of having a muscle relaxant. I went to the bathroom and for the first time looked in the mirror. “That’s not how shoulders are supposed to look,” I thought, as I saw the ball socket clearly an inch lower than it should have been. I looked at my other shoulder to confirm. “Yeah, that’s not right at all.”
In my medicine closet I had some Vicodin from when I’d caused myself permanent brain damage in an incident four years back involving me on a bicycle not wearing a helmet, a car, and far too much cement in proximity with my face.
I tried to open the container but it took two hands, and I didn’t have the strength, “Stupid child proof locks.”
I went back to my bed and used a hard surface to get it open. Then I waited five minutes for the drug to get in my system and tried the last strategy again. No luck.
I texted Andrew, but he wasn’t responding. I called up my neighbor Hillel, but he was away. I thought of the biking incident four years ago and how, despite the fact that blood was dripping off my neck and my left hand had stopped working, I’d decided to drive myself. I realized how this must be significantly more pain as there was absolutely no way I could drive myself in this state.
I called Drew’s land line and he picked up.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“I just dislocated my shoulder. Again. Could I have a ride?” I was laying on my side in bed not quite able to move without insane amounts of pain. He said he’d be right over.
It took me a full three minutes to put on a t-shirt. Fortunately I was already wearing my shoes, as I have no idea how I would have gotten them on. Once Drew picked me up, it all went smoothly. I realized I could have passed out, alone in my apartment. I should have asked for help immediately. I was an idiot. Perhaps next time I’ll do it differently.
Last Friday I was in the Apple Store to get my Macbook fixed. While the big problem was a wire showing through the cord, I also had a jammed USB port and a few dead pixels. The two minor problems were covered under Apple Care, but I’d resisted getting them fixed because I couldn’t stand the thought of going a few days without my laptop.
“Are you fine going a couple days without the laptop?” the blue shirt in the Apple Store asked me.
“Two days?” I said. My bottom lip quivered a little.
“We’ll probably have it back by Sunday. Monday at the latest.”
“But it’s Friday. Okay. I suppose. Let’s do it.”
He took my computer. I didn’t have a choice.
Two days without my laptop was not an option. I’m much too important. That’s not the word. Much too ADHD. That’s the word.
So I turned to one of the other blue shirts and resorted to what I considered my only option. I said, “Hi, I’d like to buy an iPhone.”
“Go talk with Ben over there,” she said.
I walked over to Ben. I should note this was not an impulse buy. I’d been turning it over in my head for the better part of a year, and with my relatively recent foray into teaching classes on Social Media, I didn’t have much of a choice.
A friend, Dylan, has been on my back for a while about this. “You’re teaching classes on Social Media but you don’t have a smartphone?”
“I’m on top of what’s happening,” I said.
“Yes. Just like reading articles on dating makes you qualified as a love coach.”
“What’s a love coach? Point taken.”
Conversations like that sat with me.
At the counter I said, “I’d like to get the 8gig 4s.”
“16gig is the smallest amount.”
I asked about battery life concerns on the 4 vs. the 4s, and what was happening with privacy concerns in regards to the contact list. We talked Mountain Lion as well. I wanted Ben to respect me despite my flip phone.
After choosing black, Ben led me to the set up counter where an employee was helping an 80 year old lady with how to start using her iPad. It was a lost cause. Between the octogenarian’s questions, he checked in on me as I picked through the menus on the phone, starting it up. It was straightforward right up to the point where we tried to transfer the numbers from my old flip phone to the iPhone.
“You’ll need to go to a Verizon Store to get this transferred,” he said.
“Do you know where the closest one is?” I asked.
He pulled out my iPhone and in half a minute showed me. I had that power now.
The first Verizon Store said they didn’t have the right cord and told me to go to another Verizon store on National. I got lost on the way there. Apparently there’s more than one National. While driving, I pulled out my iPhone and found out how to get there. I had that power now.
At the second Verizon Store they tried hooking the two phones up to a machine, only to decide it wasn’t possible.
“Did your old phone even charge?” the staff asked.
“I’ve been using it for two years. I’d hope so,” I said, “What else can you try? I’m not entering 180 numbers manually.”
“Hold up. It looks like it’s hooking into the system, but even that there’s no way it will connect to the iPhone because of the internal system Verizon uses.”
“Could you upload it somewhere online, then load those numbers into another phone that does use Verizon’s internal system, and then transfer from that phone?” I asked.
“It would take a while,” he said.
“I can wait,” I said.
“Are you sure? Most people aren’t that patient.”
“It’s between that and entering them all in manually. Besides, I’ve got this new toy to amuse me.” I had that power now.
For the first half hour I downloaded various apps. The 3G went down, so for the next half hour I was forced to have a conversation with the crazy lady sitting across from me.
“I’d love to see what Santorum said if one of his kids was raped by someone of color, got pregnant and they had to deal with that. Would not be good for his campaign,” she said.
“So what you’re suggesting,” I said, “is that the Democratic Party should hire a black man to rape Santorum’s daughter to hurt his campaign? That seems like a controversial choice.”
The conversation continued in that matter. It was excruciating. The thought of going another half an hour without the iPhone working was unbearable.
‘That did not take long to get addicted,’ I thought.
Eventually the Verizon store got the numbers to transfer.
While I’m excited about this whole iPhone thing, I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do with it. Despite already having downloaded a couple dozen apps, I’m still learning some of the most basic features. For instance, I haven’t typed a new contact into the phone yet.
I recognize the iPhone is a secret finding x-ray beam, and since its invention, I’ve been held to at a higher standard. I’m expected to respond to emails immediately, get anywhere in town with nothing more than an address, participate in facebook and twitter and foursquare, and have an encyclopedic knowledge of any subject. We’re living in an open book test version of reality now, and smart phones are that book. I’ve been playing a game of catch up, trying to live on an iphone level of connectedness without one, and it finally caught up to me.
Sadly this is not an article about the game Super Metroid on the iPhone. That would be much more exciting for all of us. Rather, it’s an article on how, after resisting as long as was humanly possible, I finally broke down and joined the iPhone generation.
Back in 1997, halfway into playing Super Metroid, I found an x-ray beam that when pointed at walls could reveal secret items and doors otherwise almost impossible to find. Up until that point, I had to look for slight hints to figure out where exactly the secret entrances / items were. After getting the beam, because I’m just that variety of OCD, I pointed it at everything, hoping to discover some incredibly well hidden secret.
After a few hours (read: weeks) I learned the game wasn’t that maniacal and the beam wasn’t needed and should almost never be used. I assumed there was a new standard they’d hold me up to now that I had an x-ray beam, but instead it was just a massive time waster.
I broke down on Friday and bought an iPhone. Coming from a flip phone that filled up when I reached 300 text messages, this was not a minor upgrade. It’s feeling more and more like I now have that secret beam. I’m not sad to have it, just worried I’ll start looking for all sorts of secrets in places where the best hidden gems are readily available in sight. (As apposed to in sites?)
There’s a fine line in being a phone addict that is far too easy to cross. On Friday I spent 4 hours downloading and customizing apps. Yesterday I was waving around the secret beam instead of actually talking with those around me. It wasn’t finding anything. I’m hoping this is new toy syndrome and will fade over time. I imagine it will.
But then I look at half of everyone else I know and start to worry.
I’ve been avoiding getting a real phone for a while now. The thought of staring at screens for an even larger part of my life concerns me. But it’s reaching a breaking point. I foresee one in my very near future. Traveling without a smartphone looks like this:
I’m going to continue being the laggard I am, ignoring this need as long as possible, and keep living in the past. If only because I know the moment I get one, there’s no turning back.
I wasn’t going to post this, as it’s floated all around the blogosphere, but four days after seeing it I’m still thinking about it, especially that one shot towards the end. Rodrigo Blaas took time off from Pixar to create this.
I’ve been pretty swamped in work recently which is why all of the recent posts have been video related. New sketches and the sort to come soon. The madness that is my current schedule should all come to a head in a couple weeks which will free up some time for more writing and drawing. I’m sure my ten readers will be relieved to know this.
The admission test for Gobelins sounds incredibly challenging and a fantastic way to separate the budding brilliant animators from the cheap hacks.
One thing that strikes me about the program is how this is exactly what I was looking for when I signed up for Animation Mentor. Where Animation Mentor was all about 3d animation, and nothing but 3D Animation, this program uses animation as a technique to visually experiment. It’s no wonder that some of the best independent animations and animators are coming out of this school. It’s that difference in attitude between making Creators who can contribute on every level and making brilliant Tradesmen who’s trade is animating.
So I just cut this video together on youtube. I figured by including no keywords on it like ‘Family Guy’ there’d be a better chance of it staying up for longer. It also means no one will find it, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take for the sake of this blog. And as a closing thought, I’ve worked with far, far too many Peters.
I’m debating on finishing comments for posting this video. Here’s some choices:
“I’ll be honest, I’m a sucker for anything that quenches my four second attention span.”
“…but at least I don’t watch tv….”
“Just in case anyone thought this blog had any semblance of a thematic tie in other then things I like and things I make.”
And as long as I’m posting videos I love that have nothing to do with anything-here’s one everyone must see. Michel Gondry being his awesome self:
Ooh! This post is discovering a theme. So in the realm of videos to watch your life away here’s one I’ll be seeing the whole series of:
So here’s the question. Do my trusty readers like when I post randomness like this, or should I stick to the animation/humor/drawing posts that I’ve done up to this point? Answer? Meh-I’ll post what I want. Phooey on you. Other question: Do I have readers or is it mostly just people I know in real life? To be honest, I’m fine either way. This blog is for me. If people happen to be amused by it, all the better.
I love time lapse videos. Can’t get enough of them. Maybe because I have no patience to wait. Maybe it’s seeing the whole creation (or destruction) process in front of me in such a short period of time. Maybe it’s because they’re incredible in every way so stop making me defend myself. Here’s a collection of the best I’ve seen in the last six months.