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	28 Inches Of Scar (3-10-02) My bones tend to break easily. It would therefore follow that I break a lot of bones. It is all because of this funny bone disease I have that I hear is quite rare. I measured all the scars I have on my body from 5 surgeries and it came out to be 28 inches. Thanks a lot, genetic dice roll. I also fear getting old, so I like to remain very active. Doing so incurs certain risks. I like to exist right at that threshold of maximum fun and maximum acceptable risk. I get nervous when the situation exceeds this threshold like when your friend is driving like an idiot, the mosh pit gets ugly or it is time to pull into a likely close-out at a new reef break. I don't have a problem pulling into a muddy square tube at El Cap breaking in 6 inches of water over cobble stones because, Hey, it's my break. But when it is at a new spot, I get nervous because I know how high the stakes are. For instance, when you break your femur (between your knee and your hip), they don't just put a small cast on your leg. You get one that goes from your toe to your chest and down your other leg to your knee. Would you believe it is called a 'body cast'? It is. After a while, they cut off the cast on your unbroken leg so it is far easier to pick up on chicks let alone use a bed pan. So despite all this history, I get no sympathy or understanding from my bodyboarding "friends", when I am overly cautious at a new break. Maybe I am still bitter about having to watch the '82/'83 El Nino swell destroy the coast from a hospital bed and don't want that to ever happen again. My latest adventure in injuries has been my back. This has been an on going saga for some years now and I am sure everyone is sick of hearing me bitch about it. I don't take drugs, including pain pills because I feel it is like painting a rotting fence. I also still get flashbacks from drugs I was given in the hospital more than 20 years ago so I am a little gun shy. (Send me email and I will tell you what they are like.) How did I mess up my back, you ask? My friend and I decide to go surf. We look at all sorts of spots between Morro Rock and Cayucos and none of them is perfect enough. It is sunny, offshore, uncrowded and peaky. We settle on Studio drive but he's still not convinced. He says, " you go out and if it looks like you are having fun, I will go out too." I get out there and it is way better than it looked from the truck. I notice he is coming out and I get a good one. It is about head high, dredging, hollow and dumping on the sandbar. I figure that since I have an audience, I should show off. So I go for a big el rollo but land in the flats on my side instead of my stomach somehow. I would recon it is like getting kicked in the side by some hillbilly's boot. Because I am tough, I decide to try to walk it off. I can barely breath it hurts so bad. That night, I get drunk on a hunch that the pain will go away. In the process, I meet this girl who lives at the same student housing project and tell her my tale of woe, hoping for some sympathy kisses. Since I clearly am a poor human specimen, I get the consolation prize. She says her mom is a nurse and takes out a Halloween bag and dumps out a big pile of drugs and other medical supplies on her bed. She fishes around and grabs a small bag of darvocet, I believe. I put the pill in my pocket for later as the government propaganda angel on my shoulder tries to talk me out of the whole thing. The next morning, it takes me 20 minutes to get to the seated position. The pain is SURREAL. I go to the cafeteria for some crappy food. A guy spills some milk. His friend tosses his French toast on the floor in solidarity. The absurdity is too much and I have to laugh. It hurts so bad my eyes tear up. I race back to my room and find that pill for an 8-hour pleasure vacation with bunnies and flowers. After about 4 weeks, it 'fixes itself' and I am back in business. Years later, I realize that I am lying to my body when my back goes out while leaning into a car trunk. Meanwhile I had also sprained my ankle cutting off Glenn at hazards beach break and it wasn't right either. Turns out, I broke a rib and a vertebrae. All the associated bones that were out of place because of this, froze that way and have haunted me ever since. My savior, the chiropractor, has had his job cut out for him. They will probably name a wing of his new building after me. I included 2 shots of me in Indo where I didn't puss out. more stories >>