Foot Noose

It's coming up on a year since my 'last dance'. For those of you who are unfamiliar with that statement, my last dance was an instance where I was dancing and accidentally kicked my wife Alana in the face...we both ended up in the hospital...details are listed in my first blog on Midlife Concrete. I try to never go back to that place...but for anyone wishing to visit...feel free. Just don't ever try and talk to me about 'the last dance'. Thank you.

The wounds have since healed, and I have yet to dance since then. Ok, an occasional hip swing, hand clap and sing along, yes...but no experiences to release the emotional web around me. I've found other ways to release my emotions...without...the dance. I'm getting sort of choked up here, because this isn't something that I really like to talk about but...I fucking love to dance.

My alter ego, "The Wedding Dancer" has not surfaced in well over a year, and for all I know he may be dead. (This is where it starts to get complicated...)

My cousin's wedding has been creeping up on me and my demons. Constantly I'm asking myself "...can I dance again?", and the answer from voices across my brain and beyond is "No.". Sometimes I beckon for a "Yes", for deep down I have learned to forgive myself, and am trying to move on with my life. I knew with this wedding coming I would have a big decision to make, while really having to look deep inside of myself for trust and commitment. I am at the crossroads.

I have lived and learned. And, many times it as though 'The Dance' allows me to sort of celebrate a couple's holy matrimony...it is a type of gift from me to them...hoping that their love and vows will last a lifetime. Let it be so, then. I shall dance again.

But it's not that easy.

Last week's 'super hike' has left an impression on me as well. I've had this knee/foot/ankle pain that has been getting steadily worse this week. I ignored all advice to 'take it easy' this week, and not kill myself doing concrete work. I actually tried to kill myself doing concrete work, and finally I couldn't take it anymore and had to hobble into the Mountville Family Practice yesterday to visit my doctor. I parked in the parking lot for The Mountville Inn, and almost bee lined to the bar. My head was pointed to the door for the inn, chin first while my body crossed the street toward the Dr's office. I was like a horse who was having the reigns pulled one way, while the body wanted to go a different direction...surely I looked stupid, and my neck hurt as I finally walked through the office door.

The good Doctor felt and poked. I joked with him about my skateboarding, smoking and alcohol habits. He didn't laugh and tugged some more. He seemed very concerned with the pain I was having and the length of time that I let it go before seeing him....almost like he was kind of pissed. I admitted to having a 'nine' out a ten on a pain scale. I don't want to get into a big, descriptive babble about how bad my pain is, and all that shit...listen...I'm a tough guy...who had his panties in a bunch over an injury attained hiking...that's all.

The doctor went over advice and tips and ice it and heat and blah blah....he stepped away from the observation table. I made a joke about the wedding...and he stopped me in my tracks. "Wedding?" he questioned. I told him about my cousin, and how we are traveling to West Virginia for this wedding and big party....I became concerned.

"Doc...will I be able to dance?"

His eyes widened and he shook a finger at me. "ABSOLUTELY NO DANCING."

I hung my head and left the room.

Today is Friday. We leave this afternoon. I'm walking with a cane. My brother keeps sending me mean text messages about how I am "disappointing everyone". My mother called me the other day to see how I was feeling after the hike, and was really looking forward to seeing the 'Wedding Dancer' this weekend. Naturally, I assured mom that he would be there...but now I have these Doctor's orders hanging over my head. I have never failed my own mother, but feel that now I will be writing a new chapter in my book of life called 'let downs'.

This crossroad is confusing me, and I'm not really sure where to go from here. Only time will tell. I looked at my cane this morning, and imagined how many dance moves I could do involving this thing...and then I tripped painfully without the support of this simple pole.