Life In The Slow Lane...
My photo
San Diego, CA, United States
This is a commentary about the slow lane, about the slowing of time since I suffered a severe brain injury while skateboarding with my dog. This is a blog about recovery; about our '82 VW Westfalia. It's about writing, surfing, camping, married life, bleeding ulcers that make you feel old at 32; about family, friends, and my dog Artie; it's about cruising in fourth gear, getting passed by every car and learning to appreciate every second of it.

Monday, December 28, 2009

The Great Outdoors

It's been three months since the fall. Much of that time has been divided up between the hospital room, my living room, and the lobby to my rehab. Tomorrow that will change. We are taking the Vanagon to San Clemente where we will camp for a few days. The last time we were there was three days before a skateboard ride around the neighborhood turned into the ride that nearly ended my life. The main picture on this blog was taken on that trip to San Clemente. My hair was long, my muscles bulging...right? On that trip we talked about long trips in the Vanagon, the open road. Aimee and I talked about heading north to Canada. I would write and she would take pictures. We talked about taking control of our lives. Three days later, we both lost our grip on our lives.

Today, when I wasn't working, we were out shopping for our trip. I had visions of the excursion. Most consisted of me with the same scraggly long hair, the same powerful physique, the same straight posture. I stopped myself. That's not me anymore. Tomorrow I will set up camp weaker, slower, and with less hair than three months prior. Tomorrow, my beers will be non-alcoholic, my activities less strenuous.

It's strange to think that I am returning to the same place a different person. In the past I associated progress with time. I now feel as if I traveled back in time, like the skateboard was my flux capacitor. I am curious how I will take the challenge, how the new me will handle the great outdoors.


  1. Do, sorry we couldn't make it, can't wait to hear how your trip went. Gus

  2. My only, very active brother had a motorcycle accident 7 years ago which landed him in a wheelchair (C5 incomplete quad). After a few years I did come to 'see' him in the wheelchair, he is the same cheeky person just not able bodied. Yet any time he appears in my dreams he gets out of the chair and walks. I am always baffled with the same 'what, you can walk?' question in my dream. And I wake up sad.
    (For the record I am no longer sad seeing him in the chair, he has accepted it and is happy. This doesn't explain the post-dream sadness.)