Yesterday was one of those days that wanted to kick my butt. Even still, I was determined to push. Come hell or high water, I was going to get out onto the track. But the pain I was feeling in my neck and right shoulder was so intense it was making me dizzy. I took four extra strength Advil, but it didn’t seem to make a bit of difference. Or if it did — and here’s a scary thought — what would’ve I felt like without it? On that pain scale chart they use in hospitals now, with the happy face man on the left and the frowning man on the right, I was way over in frowning face territory.

What’s odd, is this is happening more and more and I’m not sure what’s going on. Is it nerve damage? Tendon damage? I don’t know. I’ve had some sensation loss below my level of injury over the last couple of years, but nothing of this nature this high up. Could it be related? Again, I don’t know. Either way, it looks like a doctor visit is in my future. And if you know me, that’s a mighty big deal. I don’t like doctors — not personally — but I’ll only visit them when I absolutely must — when I’m right up against the edge and there aren’t any other options. This frowny face pain is pretty damn close to that point.

But back to hell or high water. Generally, when I get out onto the track, after that first lap things seem to loosen up and if I’m having any pain, that too subsides. But it was hot — very hot for Berkeley — 90 plus degrees hot — and that can be good and bad* for my workout routine. On the one hand, the heat loosens my arms up, getting rid of any stiffness I might have, but on the other — if one isn’t careful — high temperatures can be dangerous. The problem is, quadriplegics don’t sweat below the level of their injury and more often than not, above it as well. Without perspiration to cool us down, our core body temperatures can rise very quickly, and in extreme cases be lethal. Fortunately for me, I live in Berkeley and we get the kind of temperatures I’m talking about maybe three or four times a year. That works out great, because it means I can pretty much workout whenever I want. Still, when it’s hot like it’s been, I understand my limitations. I may have a Tiger Woods streak in me when it comes to working through the pain, but I’m not an idiot. I’m pretty confident I know when to say when.

That said, this particular push had me right up against that edge I was referring to above. The pain in my neck and shoulder didn’t subside after that first lap, and the heat kept me questioning how much further I could push it before the law of diminishing returns began.

A mile was my limit on this day, but it was a very well earned mile. The pain, which was difficult to deal with was, in the end, the very thing that drove me on. The pride I felt in overcoming this obstacle is money in the bank. In the big picture, it’s a rather small accomplishment compared to some, but combined with many like it, it’s the foundation for which success is built upon.

So, yeah, rest assured, once this busy weekend is behind me, I’m calling a doctor.

* For lack of a better way to put it, I used the words “good” and “bad”. But as they pertain to judgement, I’m really trying to leave those words out of my vocabulary. Life has shown me that labeling something “good” or “bad” — judging it as so — is not wise. What’s “good” or “bad” today, may not be so tomorrow.

They say television puts on 10 pounds, but I couldn’t see it. Perhaps it went to my hair, because looking at the webcast it was as large and prominent as anything in front of the camera. In retrospect, I probably should’ve looked in a mirror and brushed it a bit before going on air, as that strong San Francisco wind seemed to frazzle it up a little more than I remember it being when I left the house. I wish I could say it looked hip, but really it looked more like I was doing my part to keep that 70s skater look alive and well.

Seriously, though, note to self; think about trimming the hair. Or if not and you’re going to be on TV again, make it the X-Games or MTV.

In 3…2…1

So what was I doing on television? Well, I was on Bay Sunday CBS here in San Francisco promoting our Superfest International Disability Film Festival with one of the award-winning filmmakers, Karina Eperlein. As a board member of CDT, the parent organization of Superfest, and also a judge for the festival — not to mention the early 9:45 a.m. call time (5 a.m. for me and one of my attendants) — I was called upon to perform my duty and spread the word.

The festival itself is a tremendous event. The longest running one of its kind in the world, it began in 1970 in Los Angeles and moved here to Berkeley in 1998. It champions and honors the best in disability themed films from around the world, and has become a lens through which fertile ideas and images from the disability experience are reaching a mainstream audience. Growing year by year, exhibiting innovative and provocative works from both established and emerging filmmakers, it’s an integral part of the disability culture zeitgeist.

Superfest is a unique opportunity to engage in narratives you won’t find in your local Cineplex. The films are entertaining first and foremost, but as with the best of all films, you’ll come away with a better understanding of yourself and the world around you. I encourage you to check it out if you’re in the Bay Area, and if not, well, then hopefully sometime in the not too distant future you’ll be able to check out some of the films online. I’ll keep you posted as to when that’s going to happen.

The beautiful thing about life is that it’s completely unpredictable. It’s fluid and can’t be expected to hold any course. If you forget this, you’ll either be pleasantly surprised or thoroughly frustrated. Plans, while useful to make, will always drive this point home.

This weekend I had every intention to sail with BAADS, but — like the previous four weeks — life had other ideas. As I’ve mentioned before, my goal was to be sailing solo by early summer, but as I look at the next three weekends I’m not sure that’s going to happen. Of course, if I stretch the definition of early summer into mid-summer, then I may still achieve this objective. Sometimes it’s just a matter of reframing the definition.

What kept me off the water this weekend was something important. An attendant of mine had a schedule change with his other job and needed to give me notice. Unfortunately this notice was very short (four days), which meant I needed to find a replacement immediately. Under normal circumstances I’d like to have at least a couple of weeks notice so that I can place an ad on craigslist, set up interviews and then hire someone without feeling rushed. This amount of time allows me to space the interviews in such a way that I’m still able to do everything else in my life — work, work out, sail, rest my ass — and be confident that I’ve had enough time to find the right person.

For myself — as a quadriplegic — my attendant care is the single most important element in me being able to live independently. Everything in my life stems from this and it can’t be overstated. Finding the right person isn’t so much about finding somebody who can physically do the job (though, that’s certainly part of it), it’s about finding somebody who I’ll enjoy being around and will be a dynamic addition to my life. Rarely do I look at a resume or call references, I go with my instincts and — not wanting to sound too new agey — the vibe I get. It’s a unique relationship, intimate and rich, and a great many of these people become — and are — dear and longtime friends.

So while on the one hand it’s a drag to replace a friend and great attendant, and to rearrange my life to accommodate a succession of interviews, it’s a great opportunity to meet somebody new and to add yet another dimension to my world.

I didn’t get to sail this week, but ultimately I’m sure that’ll take care of itself. The trip — or any sailing I do — depends greatly on the dedicated assistance of my amazing attendants — in preparation, support and direct participation. Their commitment to all aspects of my life — from the seemingly insignificant to the grand — is forever heartwarming. Knowing that — even as folks come and go — is a powerful thing. I’ll gladly move anything around in service of its success.

Even the timeliness of this blog.