The Healing Begins

To some who might be wondering what the heck happened to Gilagolf, the answer is simple.

Baby. Injury.

Not injuring the baby. As in Baby, and then injury. I think the injury is related to the Baby, but I’ve already had it coming, spending hours on the laptop thrashing out reports, proposals, R&D and what-not just to get the moolahs in every month to pay bills. The problem with having your business is that you can’t sit on your butt doing nothing and still get paid…like what I used to do back in good old corporate life. Of course, I had to suck up a lot more than now, but I can generally worm my way away from work onto a golf course at my heart’s content.

No longer.

Anyway, I was playing just horrendous golf due to, ummm, a post traumatic synovitis — in the doctor’s terms. And possibly some mental meltdown as well. I was overswinging and coming way over the top.

The funny thing was that on the range, I was hitting it fine. For some strange reason, once on the course, my swing retards itself into an unknown mixture of Jim Furyk and a chimp high on ecstasy. Seeing that my game was already on its way to become a 100+ game again, I decided to take myself out of things since August and haven’t touched my clubs since.

I finally went for the small procedure to fix my synovitis. Basically, I allowed the doctor to inject me with some unknown liquid to turn my bones to adamantium. Or maybe. I don’t know. He said a lot of doctory stuff I didn’t understand. His handwriting was like egyptian hieroglyphs. So I did a procedure where he stuck a long needle into the most painful part of my hands, and using ultrasound, guided that freaking needle here and there, poking through tendons and nearly touching bones. As in, it wasn’t just poke and done, it was a good 10 – 15 minutes where I had the freaking needle in my wrist going here and there, and listening to him go, “Whoops, that’s too tight. Let’s reverse.” What the h*ck?? You’re talking about my wrist here, not the other thing that comes into most men’s mind.

Once done, splinted my wrist, pat my back and he said, “No golf for at least two weeks – to a month.”

What the heck. Looks like my 2012 golf is over. Hope to get back on the course before CNY then.

Stay tuned!

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