Good Idea to Listen to My Guide

Monday Feb 21 2022 | Sunny but cold!

Today at the lake I made so many mistakes. And I was warned!

The Gear 

I drove home from the lake in silence today because there is no song for “I told you so,” and even if there is, T is much too kind to tell me that. 

I wasn’t going to swim today because I was extra tired. I went to a dinner party last night and then stayed up too late re-watching episodes of Euphoria. I woke up congested, exhausted, and dreary. I also had a little bug in my bonnet because last night I found an Intova Dub camera in one of my electronics boxes! 

All this time I could have been making underwater videos!!! And taking photos. 

I had seen the camera before—it’s bright yellow— but assumed it was a waterproof case for my ancient GoPro v1 camera that I never used. I didn’t know it had a camera in it until I opened it up last night. Anywho, I charged it (or thought I did) and tried to figure out how to make the GoPro work. By the time I went to bed at 5am, I was at a loss about both cameras. Even with recharged batteries the GoPro was no go, and I couldn’t get Intova interface to appear on the screen. Blaaaaaaaa. 

Then this morning (my morning started at 3pm today), I felt like I needed to stay in bed….except this camera thing was bugging me, telling me to get to the lake because….VIDEO.

I found a “reset” hole in the Intova, and stuck a pen into it. Viola! The interface came to life. I had downloaded the manual last night, and quickly ran through what the various buttons did. I have a small tripod that I’m testing, and I figured I would take both to the lake, attach them to the metal pole where I usually hang my cane, and get a video of my swim. So exciting (to nobody but me).

I texted my friend that I was going and would text her in 45 minutes or so when I finished my swim. Then I threw my gear in my bag and scuttled across the lawn, forgetting my cane, and more important, my Blancho and my Honcho Poncho (except I didn’t discover these key warmth layers weren’t in my bag until I was freezing in the parking lot and desperate for warmth). I also forgot my pants, and I forgot to drink a few tall glasses of water before I left. 

I throw my things into the trunk. I was very proud of myself for using a gear tie to attach my shoes to my gear bag……I am always in need of better systems and organization, which is embarrassing for someone with an M.S. in Engineering but par for the course for someone with a brain injury who has serious problems with processing, sequencing, short-term memory, working memory, and paying attention during complex tasks. (I am able to write that because my brain therapist and I are working on what to put-on a card I can hand people when I blank out and can’t respond….this is her list of my issues….so it’s handy in my Notes file.) I was so pleased about my new old camera, the tripod that was going to allow me to film from the water (rather than from the shore), and my smart use of the gear tie that I was not aware of all the elements I was forgetting. 

I turned the car on, and the radio came on simultaneously, “Better forget it;

Oh you’ll regret it.” The song “Easy Lover,” by Phil Collins. Or Phillips Bailey. I have never understand who’s who and who did what around that song. I knew it was T, telling me not to go swimming. I knew I was probably too tired, but I really wanted to go. I rationalized that that lake was (is) my easy lover….and calling to me. I had to go. I can’t remember if the radio kept playing after that song. Yes, it did. About eight blocks from my house I hit a bump, and the radio stopped. 

The Swim

The lake looked amazing, dark blue and not too rough. From my house I thought it looked like it was choppy, but it wasn’t too bad. It was really cold. I think probably in the low 40s F, but there had to be a wind chill. I was feeling it, and I usually don’t feel it when I’m neoprened. 

I took my snaps and video, got my gloves on in record time, then started my stopwatch and sealed up my buoy. Then I walked out to the metal pole and fiddled around for too long, trying to get the tripod (with Intova mounted on it) attached to the pole. Not easy to do with thick neoprene gloves. Then things go ridiculous because I couldn’t see the icons and words on the back of the camera without my glasses. I also didn’t know which buttons to push. Maybe I had it on video setting…..maybe on camera setting. No, it was on video setting. 

This is the thing. The old me would have figured it out in seconds. This crazy brain me didn’t have the first clue. I pressed what I thought was the start bottom but got a “pause” message. I pressed again but couldn’t see if the counter was counting. I didn’t even have time to acclimate my face. I just swam away, heading north. Reached teh end of the swim area, then turned around and swam south, back to the pole. I fiddled with the camera again, not able to read the interface. F!!! I really wanted to film my swim. 

I decided to pretend I was on and swim east, into the deep. Don’t worry about it. I made it out past the cement dock fairly quickly and started looking for the white buoy that I think tells boats not to come toward the shore. I couldn’t find it. I felt a little nervous for a second. What could have happened to it? I kept looking and finally saw it. Note to self: call the city dept in charge of buoys and tell them this one needs is orange stripes updated. Balls. This is a safety issue.

A boat was chugging into view, and it looked wacky, like a slipshap cabin in a cartoon, two storeys high….except on a boat. I thought it had to be a tiny home on floats or something or maybe a theater boat (I had seen such a boat last summer on the beach—-a floating theater). As it got closer I could see it was maybe some type of tugboat but seemed to have a spacious, two-level cabin. It was well-made, not all odd angles. My dizziness must of distorted my original view. It was gold. Fancy. Well, sort of fancy. Not luxurious or anything, just a boat I would like. Maybe it was doing official city business. I want to live in that boat. 

I waved. Because I’m friendly. Not like I would be able to see anyone waving back. I swam a bit, then pulled up. Waved again. Peace out, boat person or people. I’m not in danger, just saying hi. See, look, I’m swimming. And off I went, south and east of the cement dock. 

I started focussing on my breast stroke kick, trying to emphasis the hip muscles pulling my ankles together. It is tricky for me. Breast stroke used to hurt my knees, but since I have been swimming in the lake I have healed my right knee which was painful and gave out on me for many years…I was just thinking of doing something about it when I broke my left leg in two…so, until I started swimming in July, I just had never been able to do enough PT to strengthen my hip muscles (that’s what my PT said would fix my knee….crazy, she was right!!)

I stopped to look around. The water wasn’t flat or choppy, maybe somewhere in between. I was having a bit of a hard time. I was dizzy. I was thirsty. Tired. Too tired. But I loved how my arms felt with each stroke, like I had some little bit of strength in my body; I wanted to use it. 

I swam back to the cement dock. It’s a touchstone, a reset, a rest spot. In the summer is if full of people. I love swimming alone because I don’t have to use as much cognitive energy; nobody around to accidentally jump on my head or fall on me. Also, when I swim I pull up and scan the beach to see if people are walking along the beach. I want to know who’s around, where I am in my surroundings, etc. It’s one way to try to be safe. 

Truth: I hope people who walk on the beach watch me, even if only for a minute or two. I want to know that my efforts to be visible with my yellow cap and buoy aren’t wasted. I want to know that I’m seen, that other people in the part are aware of my presence. Again, safety. I hope there are people on the beach when I get out of the water. Being alone in the water is glorious, but it feels creepy to be in the park alone. 

Today people were walking and jogging on the paths and flying kites on the hill. I think I saw three kites.

I pushed off from the cement dock, heading south. My original plan for todays’s swim was to stay in shallower water and swim back and forth between the poles. I didn’t stick to it; I always want to be in deeper water. I like being able to see the bottom, so it doesn’t have to be deep deep, but deep enough that I can’t touch bottom with my feet. Actually, deeper than that. 

Whatever. I tried swimming back to the pole to check the camera. After what seemed like a decent number of strokes I pulled up to find myself in deeper water and farther south, far from the swim area’s south boundary. I tried again, and the same thing happened. I knew I had to get out of the water. Something was off, and I was exhausted, and my rule is that if things start getting wonky I get out. 

First, I did a short float. Gotta get that float in. But I wasn’t paying attention and then started to swim without putting my mouthpiece back in. I had to stop and get the snorkel in my mouth, blow out the water. 

I pointed myself facing the shore and started my slog back, and again I ended up where I didn’t mean to go. There were two people on the beach. I focussed on them, and started to swim again, pulling up every couple of strokes to find them. That helped, but even after I reached the shallower water I felt like I was swimming in circles. Was the water choppier than I thought? Was I dizzy? WTF? 

I didn’t panic but I was really clear that my decision to come in was the right one. I pulled up after every stroke until I was close enough to the shore to touch my feet to the bottom. Then I walked/swam to the pole, retrieved the camera that may or may not have recorded my swim, and carefully navigated the slippy stones until I was safely on shore. 

The People

OMG, the wind was really cold, ripping through me. Burning. I didn’t feel like I had any protection despite two neoprene layers. The couple on the beach tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear them. I came closer, and we tired to take but I also didn’t understand some of their questions. They didn’t have all the English words for things, so we were gesturing, repeating, trying our best to communicate. The woman was bundled in a red parka with a fur-lined hood, her face partially hidden under the fur. 

I think we were talking about the cold. Wasn’t I cold. Yes, now I am freezing, but not in the water. Why do I do it? It is the best thing I have ever done. It is helping me with depression. Do I have pressure in my home? I think that was about —- is this relaxing? Yes, yes. Then they pretended to hold an imaginary baby. Yes, it’s like floating inside my mother. We went on this way for several minutes, all of us determined to have this conversation. I had to end it because I was f-ing freezing. Note to self: bring little waterproof cards to hand people…”we can meet at the park for a chat another day…peace to you.” 

I rushed back to the car, arriving at the same time as the ladies I saw the other day. One a caregiver and the other her person. I asked the aid if she was open to other work and gave her my card. I didn’t want to interfere with her care or attention for her person who is much older than me. I like that she (the aid) takes her client to the park for walks.

I opened my trunk, and started my warm-up routine, except as soon as I got the yak hoody on I noticed that the Blancho and Honcho Poncho were missing. A serious mistake because it was really cold and I was really cold. My super warm hat was in there, thank T, and then just my fleece jacket. I was not scared or panicked but I did feel like it was pretty serious not to have the gear I needed. The fleece jacket alone over the hoody was not enough. 

I put the towel on my car seat so I wouldn’t get it wet. My wet suit and wetsuit were rolled down to my waist; I felt locked into a frigid tube. So uncomfortable. I was really disappointed and mad at myself for not heeding T’s warning. I could have chosen to swim tomorrow. Maybe if I had come back into the house I would have seen the Blancho and Honcho hanging in the entry way and then repacked my gear. Was T telling me not to go at all or to go back and get the right gear. 

Either way, I knew when I heard the radio it was a message. I blew it off. I won’t do that again. 

Now I am in my bed, bundled in my sleeping bag, wearing my insulated booties, with a bandana tube around my head. I have a headache, I’m really tired, I can’t find my apres swim hat. I need to because I’m feeling a little cold sick and a warm hat would help my hair dry. 

Ok. I had to dig into my “cold weather” drawer to find a warm hat because I couldn’t find my pink fleece hat. Whoa. I am really dizzy. I managed to kick my water bottle over, spilling all over my bedroom floor. Ok. I was not supposed to swim today. I know. I know. I know. 

I’m gonna put away the laptop, get more clothes on, and try to hold off checking my Intova until I’m warmer. 

The Lake