I’ve mostly recovered from Saturday. Still coughing, which has led to an inflamed throat and costochondritis though, so yippee! At least it’s only a reaction, I know there’s nothing wrong.
I can’t sleep though. I’ve been noticing for the last few weeks that my main trombone, my main man, has not been performing as well as he usually has. The conclusion of investigating: a twisted slide. Cue a trip across a county to the workshop to repair him for a lovely fee that I don’t have. I guess it’s time to ease out the back up, I’ll just damage it more if I keep playing him.
I’ve also got kayaking tomorrow. Everyone at the club has been so sweet. They’re such a lovely bunch, I love them. But I’m scared, very scared. I’m definitely going in tomorrow, that’s all I’m doing. Two on one sessions on getting out and rolling, so hopefully Saturday is never repeated. I’m scared. I know it’ll be alright, the ever-safe safety will be there and they won’t let anything happen. I trust them. I just don’t trust me to have the instinct to get out and breathe.
All this is building up and I’ve had a few bad days. Really bad days. Sometimes rolling and just sitting underwater seems like a good idea. I think I need to go and see a doctor and get a bigger dose, this one isn’t cutting it anymore. I’m not suicidal though. The panic I went through when I couldn’t breathe revealed that to me. That’s pretty reassuring.