n8urboy

I was out in northern Washington all last week for my company's manager's retreat. 300 zumiez store managers take over 1 small town. crazy. I learned a lot, got to see the new product line for fall, and did some networking. yadda yadda. Business as usual.

The real story begins at nightfall, when we'd go back to where we were staying and light bonfires. In the chill of the star filled night, under the influence of Miller Genuine draft, the fire blazed high and bright, and the spirit of the berserker filled me. I took flight into the over the fire, head first. The flames kissed my face and my body met the ground with a quick roll. Quickly to my feet, the chants of my brethren fueled me. More logs were thrown upon the fire, a surge of heat filled the air and the flames grew higher. Again, I dove, again the fire kissed me, and again I landed with a cushioning roll and a quick jump to my feet. The chants grew as did the fire. I praised my brethren, I praised Valhalla, and dedicated my jump to fallen brethren (in this case, my cat axel rose who passed away last week at the age of 20.) The flames were shooting high into the air, I quickly gathered speed and with arms outstretched I performed a swan dive over the fire. I no longer heard the chants, nor did I feel the flames, but a half second later when I should have met the ground, the ground, instead, met me. I walked away from that fire, and gave no hint to the injury I knew I had inflicted upon myself.

I seperated my shoulder. My clavicle, as far as I can tell, is no longer attached to my scapula in any way shape or form. The dead give away is when I'm not wearing a sling, the bone pokes up through the skin on my shoulder. A week later and I still haven't been able to see an orthopedist. I refused pain killers from my doctor, so it's just me, the shoulder, and the pain. I hope I wont need surgery. That would be a bummer.