Fap Hands. A status report.
RJM
Published
11/10/2010
I'll join the narcissistic ranks of those that write an occasional blog under the delusion that any of you actually care what each other is up to. Except I really am narcissistic and you all love me, so...
My hands feel like I've been fapping far too hard for far too long. That might in fact be the case, however the I suspect other extraneous activities have also played a role. Earlier this year I developed Carpal Tunnel Syndrome in my right hand while doing various construction work to keep my hands busy and wallet padded. As a result, my right hand became nearly useless and the meaty part of my hand between the thumb and index finger became swollen to the size of a golf ball. After a few weeks, the feeling in my hand returned and I could no longer do "The Stranger" the instant way; without first sitting on my hand for 15 minutes.
This past couple of weeks, I'm back to doing "The Stranger" after taking up some tile work on an investment property. In my overconfident zeal (that's for you, Ty), I decided tiling the entire 977 square foot condominium would be a breeze. I budgeted a conservative 4 days to complete the simple task and narrowly missed the allotted timeframe by about a week. I have gained a god-like respect for tile layers, and god-damned pain in the everything after spending the last week and a half on my hands and knees.
Both hands now have Carpal Tunnel and today was the first day I didn't wake up wanting to sob because my entire limb was throbbing. The numbness I still feel is a blessing. If you've never had Carpal Tunnel, it's the same feeling you get when your arm falls asleep, and is starting to come alive again and becomes super-ultra sensitive. And it won't go away.
On top of the Carpal Tunnel, I dislocated my knee while helping the new tenants move in a TV. It wasn't heavy, but I was in an awkward position and suddenly felt my knee pop sideways and bend in the same direction. It's one of the most painful things I've ever had happen and that was the second time for that knee. I smell surgery in my future. At the time, I wasn't done tiling the floors, but the tenant needed to get their belongings out of the prior residence, so we moved some of the things into the finished areas. However, the remaining floor areas I'd now have to manage without the benefit of spreading my weight onto two knees.
After the 1st, we agreed to knock off $30 from the rent for each day until the condo was ready to move in, so I was in a mad rush. Last Saturday, I spent 23 hours in one last stint to finalize the condo.
[Space reserved for Monster Energy Drink advertisement]
I left about 4 minutes before they arrived, dead tired, and barely able to keep my eyes on the road. The next 24 hours were vague memories of semi-conscious semi-life, the sight of my legs of my 6-ft frame propped out the far end of a 5-ft jacuzzi, and some cloudy memory involving a phone call with Satan.
I discovered that day that I had a mother of all bruises on my knee. Dislocated knees feel like someone hit the side of your knee with a sledge hammer. The first time I didn't have any visible indication something was wrong. This time, I must have burst a blood vessel when it popped.
So I'm now a 30-year old decrepit old man that can't move worth shit. Two days ago, I could barely type.
But all-in-all it was worth it. The condo looks like $1,000,000 in a 2006 economy, (approx. $55,000 in today's market) and everyone is happy. I did 18-inch tile floors, diamond pattern, painted everything, installed upgraded trim, granite counters, and replaced the popcorn ceiling with a stucco-esque knockdown sand finish. New cabinets, and I constructed a coffered ceiling in the master bedroom that is wired for recessed lighting in the future, and replaced the very much 80s fluorescent lightwell -the plastic 2-ft x 4-ft diffusion panels made of cheap plastic- with a coffered ceiling and recessed lighting. The condo went straight from cookie-cutter 1986 to all-custom 2010.
It only cost me two arms and a leg.
My hands feel like I've been fapping far too hard for far too long. That might in fact be the case, however the I suspect other extraneous activities have also played a role. Earlier this year I developed Carpal Tunnel Syndrome in my right hand while doing various construction work to keep my hands busy and wallet padded. As a result, my right hand became nearly useless and the meaty part of my hand between the thumb and index finger became swollen to the size of a golf ball. After a few weeks, the feeling in my hand returned and I could no longer do "The Stranger" the instant way; without first sitting on my hand for 15 minutes.
This past couple of weeks, I'm back to doing "The Stranger" after taking up some tile work on an investment property. In my overconfident zeal (that's for you, Ty), I decided tiling the entire 977 square foot condominium would be a breeze. I budgeted a conservative 4 days to complete the simple task and narrowly missed the allotted timeframe by about a week. I have gained a god-like respect for tile layers, and god-damned pain in the everything after spending the last week and a half on my hands and knees.
Both hands now have Carpal Tunnel and today was the first day I didn't wake up wanting to sob because my entire limb was throbbing. The numbness I still feel is a blessing. If you've never had Carpal Tunnel, it's the same feeling you get when your arm falls asleep, and is starting to come alive again and becomes super-ultra sensitive. And it won't go away.
On top of the Carpal Tunnel, I dislocated my knee while helping the new tenants move in a TV. It wasn't heavy, but I was in an awkward position and suddenly felt my knee pop sideways and bend in the same direction. It's one of the most painful things I've ever had happen and that was the second time for that knee. I smell surgery in my future. At the time, I wasn't done tiling the floors, but the tenant needed to get their belongings out of the prior residence, so we moved some of the things into the finished areas. However, the remaining floor areas I'd now have to manage without the benefit of spreading my weight onto two knees.
After the 1st, we agreed to knock off $30 from the rent for each day until the condo was ready to move in, so I was in a mad rush. Last Saturday, I spent 23 hours in one last stint to finalize the condo.
[Space reserved for Monster Energy Drink advertisement]
I left about 4 minutes before they arrived, dead tired, and barely able to keep my eyes on the road. The next 24 hours were vague memories of semi-conscious semi-life, the sight of my legs of my 6-ft frame propped out the far end of a 5-ft jacuzzi, and some cloudy memory involving a phone call with Satan.
I discovered that day that I had a mother of all bruises on my knee. Dislocated knees feel like someone hit the side of your knee with a sledge hammer. The first time I didn't have any visible indication something was wrong. This time, I must have burst a blood vessel when it popped.
So I'm now a 30-year old decrepit old man that can't move worth shit. Two days ago, I could barely type.
But all-in-all it was worth it. The condo looks like $1,000,000 in a 2006 economy, (approx. $55,000 in today's market) and everyone is happy. I did 18-inch tile floors, diamond pattern, painted everything, installed upgraded trim, granite counters, and replaced the popcorn ceiling with a stucco-esque knockdown sand finish. New cabinets, and I constructed a coffered ceiling in the master bedroom that is wired for recessed lighting in the future, and replaced the very much 80s fluorescent lightwell -the plastic 2-ft x 4-ft diffusion panels made of cheap plastic- with a coffered ceiling and recessed lighting. The condo went straight from cookie-cutter 1986 to all-custom 2010.
It only cost me two arms and a leg.
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