Of all people LL Cool J once defined Einstein’s theory of relativity (in a movie) by making a comparison to the amount of time you spend with a beautiful woman. He said that if you have your hands on a hot girl it can feel as if time goes by way too quickly, but get your hands on a hot pan while its stuck on a stove and time can last forever.
When you suffer from a traumatic impact injury to something as delicate as your eye, and you’ll just have to take my word for this, time can feel like a never ending cycle. The memory of the remainder of this day is built in segments. It is a compilation of snippets in time. Made so in an attempt by my brain to allow me to process the entire event.
Time…
I don’t actually remember the moment of impact. Hell, I’m not even sure I felt it. If I did it was more of a delayed sensation. I screamed. Its what we humans do when we feel pain. We don’t have to, mind you. But we do it just the same. For some reason we want others to know just how much pain we’re in. The higher the level of pain the louder the yell. It’s ridiculous if you really stop and think about it. Wouldn’t we all be better off if we saved our energy a little bit during this particular physical crisis?
Time…For an instant everything went still. Time stopped. I screamed and then everything sped up so much that I couldn’t keep up. It wasn’t just the outside world. Even my brain and the voices that I call my constant companions went into hyper drive.
What the hell? They asked.
Mother Fucker! They screamed.
Why me! They cried?
Time…
They say that in moments of crisis the human brain slows things down. They say that it feels like everything is moving in slow motion. It’s true. I’ve seen it and experienced it all before. You process things at a faster rate than you normally might. It’s why some people can only perform under pressure.
Time…
I came to my senses when Tate and Gary pulled up along side of where I had curled up. By this time the screaming had stopped and I’d regressed into a fetal rhythm of rocking back and forth. I couldn’t tell you if it was out loud but I know my brain muttered over and over again the word “no”.
It became a litany…over and over and over again. No, no, no, no, no, no, no…
Time…
Now I’m looking for my ball. It’s amazing the stupid shit that becomes important to you during something like this. I actually remember asking Tate if my shot had made it to the green? It hadn’t, and the disappointment of this was more fuel to the fire of my discomfort. I was done for the day; Nay the entire trip. My vacation was at a horrific and abrupt end.
Time…
Self pity can set in fast in a moment like this. So can pride. This was the one vacation I get every year. The one thing I do for me! My sole selfish act. It’s a lot of work to set it all up but from the moment I get on the course and hit that first shot, to the moment I get home, is all over is for me. Now its over! Just like that. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Time…
To prove that serendipity still exists the Marshall pulls up moments after I get back to my feet. It has become apparent to all of us that my day is over and that I will require assistance back to the clubhouse. After some finagling we load up my gear and wind our way back to the beginning of the course. I remember a feeling of irritation at how long this drive took. The “hand on a hot pot” version of Einstein’s theory was becoming all too clear to me.
Time…
At the clubhouse they gave me a bottle of run of the mill eye drops and all the sympathy that the staff had to offer. Hell they even gave me a refund of my greens fees and a free golf cart so I could follow along with my friends for the remainder of their round (I lasted for another 4 holes). Kindness is larger than Pride my Nana once told me. Kindness is also a lot less painful.
Time…
At some point in a crisis everyone, no matter what your station in life, goes into “survival mode”. I had tried playing the “good host”. But as time wore on my base instinct had taken over. My body and psyche demanded that I dig a foxhole and bury myself into it. I made my way back to the parking lot, got in my car, and drove to the hotel. I have driven while intoxicated before. I’m not proud of this but I have done it. If ever asked to recall the passage home (or wherever I was headed at the time) I could do so without hesitation. Hell I could probably even entertain you with it. My mind has completely blacked out the voyage to the hotel.Time…
The remainder of the evening was pure CHAOS. Not in a shit all over the room and craziness happening all around me sort of way. I’m talking craziness in my head. There is a scene in the second Matrix movie where Neo is standing in front of several TV screens with different versions of himself on them. At one point they are all talking, and some of them are screaming. I’ve always wondered how anyone could remain sane if that actually happened in one single vessel. I fear that I found my answer that night. I lost my mind.
Time…
In an effort to quiet the cacophony I worked my way to the shower. The warm water and the sound of each stream hitting my body and the walls and floor of the tub managed to calm the crowd a bit. Then Shock set in. Why was the water getting cold? I can feel and see the steam getting thicker. When you’re in a hot shower time goes by too quickly.
Time…
Now I’m in bed. I’ve commandeered one of the extra blankets from the closet. Somehow I’ve managed to turn on the bedside radio. I toggle through the stations until I hear something I recognize. I need something to distract my brain. Something to make me forget that I’m in pain. Something to help me stop thinking about how I may never see again. The first recognizable sound I hear is not a song. It’s a voice. The DJ’s name is Tommy Parker. I spend some time struggling to recognize the name before I realize that it’s a Nome de Plume. Tommy has provided me with some serenity.
Time…
The rest of the gang shows up at the hotel. They want to be supportive. They are legitimately concerned. For my part I’ve finally found a way to ignore the pain. I’m focused on Tommy. Play something else for me Tommy. Give me something to focus on. Tell me that there is more to life than this incredibly horrible existence that I’m currently trapped in.
Time…
The gang has given up on helping me. I’m sure it has everything to do with how grumpy I am at the time. Fuck me for being a bad patient. At this point I’m not “seeing” any upside to what has happened. Death might even be preferable to this. it’s a shame the rock didn’t go clean through my skull and cause me to bleed out. The song “Help, I’m Alive” plays in the background. I begin to lose my hold on reality as they decide to head out to the casino.
Time…The gang is back from the casino and the one thing I’m certain of is that I don’t care. All I want is to sleep. If I can sleep, then I won’t feel pain. If I don’t feel pain I can make my way to the hospital. I just need to sleep. Tommy Parker signs off and I realize that the one person that was around to help me through this has just abandoned me. Help, I need somebody. Help, not just anybody.
Time…
I take as many Tylenol PM tablets as they are willing to give me. Begging for the Sandman to come my way. Begging for this to have all been a very bad and detailed dream. All the time knowing that it isn’t.
Tomorrow morning I will drive to the hospital. Tomorrow I will fix this thing. If only I can make it to to tomorrow. When your eyesight is good and you are pain free, each moment seems to go by fast. When you’re in extreme pain and discomfort it can feel like an eternity.
time…
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