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.
Jane: I've heard police work is dangerous.
Frank: It is. That's why I carry a big gun.
Jane: Aren't you afraid it might go off accidentally?
Frank: I used to have that problem.
Jane: What did you do about it?
Frank: I just think about baseball.
Frank: It's the same old story. Boy finds girl, boy loses girl, girl finds boy, boy forgets girl, boy remembers girl, girls dies in a tragic blimp accident over the Orange Bowl on New Year's Day.
Frank: No, the worst.
I can't get the image out of my mind; the scene in Naked Gun with Leslie Nielsen is in the fertility clinic. It's in my mind and has been all day and not just because Naked Gun was a great film but because that is where I will find myself tomorrow.
The visit to the fertility clinic is long overdue. My diminished libido has been something that I kept hoping would improve. My doctor told me to get my testosterone levels tested months ago but it was one of those things, that much like the act itself, doesn't come up often.
I'm not sure, neither is anyone else, what stopped the drive, whether it was losing the sense of smell or if it is a direct result of the injury. I read something that said one-quarter of asnosmiacs (non-smellers) lose their sex drive. Another site, says brain injury can reduce sex drive, and bring about impotency.
So tomorrow, I go to give blood and a sample, and do my best Frank Drebin.