Memory or Delusion

I'm writing this blog post lying on bed with my left leg elevated by a folded pillow and 2 cushions, mellowed by pain killers yet feeling a constant throb threw the bandage.

Have you ever recalled something, a memory you can see as clear as day, and lived by it to some extent, or in some cases hindered your living by it, only to discover that things aren't quite how you remember?
As mentioned in earlier posts I have a phobia of hospitals - I found out recently that this is completely self inflicted. You see my memory of running around a hospital where my great aunt lay singing your nearly dead didn't quite happen like that. Sure enough I was visiting my Great Aunt, and yes, she was close to ending her journey, but she wasn't in a hospital, in fact she was in the old dears accommodation, a nursing home, a retirement home, the old folks inn. And yes, I did run around screaming your nearly dead, but it wasn't directly to her or the other people who were close to a surcease on their lives, instead it was in a quad outside. Sure their windows were all open and they definitely would have heard the cruelty, of a young child, filled with life, at the start of the journey, whilst they were coming to an end of theirs, a somewhat antagonistic situation for them, but I'd like to think that inside of them, they were smiling. (why is it when people get to a certain age where the pearly gates are in front of them, their face muscles have relaxed to an extent where they could be mistaken as Stalter and Waldorf from the Muppet's, or for the non Muppet fans, Fabio Cappello -that any attempt as an external smile looks more like they are in the process of breaking wind?)

Anyway, what does all that mean? It means I'm scared of hospitals because I created a memory in a parallel dimension, a different place, the fear is self caused and thus very difficult to work out the direct resolution, as surely people get over the fear by putting them in the situation that first caused the fear. In order to combat this fear I need to visit an old peoples home and have an enjoyable experience where I leave happy (please no pervy comments) and then remember it as having taken place in a hospital. You may see my dilemma, first of all, as sure as I am that according to the telly old people love random youngsters (oi I'm 24 that's still young in comparison) paying them a visit, I do live in London. London is a place where if a 24 year old male walks in to an old people's home, eyebrows will be raised and I am sure as hell to fall victim to an interrogation experienced by few. Security will be called by reception, and it's a pretty awkward conversation that would lie ahead, in fact let's play it out.

ME: Hi there,
Receptionists (from now on referred to as R and Security as S to save energy): Hi, who are you hear to see?
ME: Um nobody in particular
R: Sorry? Do you have a relative here?
ME: No, I just wanted to pop in and have a good time.
R: You wanted to have a good time in a old people's home?
ME: Yeah, pretty hard to explain.
R: Hold on one second (Security arrive, to security) This young man has come in but he isn't visiting anyone in particular.
S: Sir why are you here?
ME: Well, I had a bad memory of something happening in a hospital, but it actually happened in an old people's home, and in order to overcome the irrational fear that arrived, I wanted to come along and have a more enjoyable experience.
S: You had a bad memory that you thought happened in a hospital. Sir did somebody touch you and now you want to touch them?
ME: wooooah hold on sheriff not like that you sick perv, last time I was in one of these joints I was singing your nearly dead, and I want to remedy this.

And so on - not a conversation I want to rush.

So how does this all tie in to my current situation? Well playing football today I was using my blistering pace (OK it was a light jog) down the wing, skilled one guy (kicked the ball too far and slid to win it back) before doing a step over with my right leg (that was surprisingly meant) and went to flick it with my left. As i caught the ball with my left and the left leg returned to ground an almighty click/ knock occurred and a pain rocketed through my knee sending me in to a masculine scream. It turns out the click was heard by the person in the goal 30+metres away (although I may exaggerate this to be 100m at a later date, possibly even a mile for effect- he was the furthest away who knows how far it could be heard). I lay on the floor, something that is a regular occurrence in our games, but usually due to a small knock and me seeing it as the optimum time to catch my breath, only this time the pain didn't go, in fact it got worse. I've broken bones before, been electrocuted, twisted ankles, been punched, hit by a car, none of them compare to the pain I am currently feeling.

Here's the issue - I can't go to the hospital because I haven't conquered my fear and I can't now because if I walk in with a walking stick it will look like I am ridiculing the old people, and lead to another bad memory. So instead I lie here in pain, googling the symptoms and can 100% say that this is a life threatening injury and the end of my days..... fine fine, I'm sure it's ligament injury, and judging by the diagram and symptoms available at BUPA online (other medical online places are available but they are ranked number one on google so either they are shit hot or they have a guru at SEO (search engine optimisation - a techy thing), either way they are the ones I'm using) and it appears like it is the lateral collateral ligament. My options are these:
1) As some people have put it - Man the F Up and let it heal itself
2) Man the F Up and go to the hospital (even if I man the f up they aren't going to be able to treat it I'd have to wait for hours to see them to be told that I need an appointment)
3) Go to the Doctors
4) Go to a physio

I like option 4, sure it costs but they are cool. I happen to know an Arsenal Physio and due to the Jack Wilshire situation, I may go in with a torn ligament and eventually it will be claimed to be a burst vein or something 100 times worse that prevents me from ever being fit again, but that's a risk I will take and I am sorry to all my fans of my football but it may mean never being back to play hahaha

Anyway this blog took you on a journey, one of adventure I'd like to think.

A quote from Soren Kierkegaard repeated by Micky Flanagan "Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards." This quote pretty much means, as Micky put, we are unable to process the experiences we have in the moment, we can never be in the moment, instead it can only be processed in a memory, and my input - make sure the memories are real ones so you don't screw yourself up like I have :)