TELL IT TO MY UNCONSCIOUS
The "From the Couch" faithful will remember from Volume 2 that I was having trouble sleeping because my heart was pounding hard (it wasnít fast, it just felt like it was working hard). Then it stopped. Well, the pounding heart haunted me again this weekend. I was up for almost all of Saturday night and parts of Sunday. I found the only way to fall asleep was to have a lot of blankets on so that I overheated. Because I was so hot, I would have nightmares, which then made the pounding heart seem normal. A strange way to sleep, but it worked. Again I consulted with Modern Medicine and came up with no definitive answers.
My vitals were fine, ignore it and it will go away. When I grew annoyed and persisted that there must be an explanation, Medicine attacked me. Like a cornered beast, it turned on me and lunged. "Itís Anxiety. Your unconscious worrying is manifesting itself."
I was hit square between the eyes. Suddenly, my problem was my fault. I was hurting myself. It was one of those Good Kirk vs. Evil Kirk episodes. I tried to argue (surprising behavior for me, huh?). Why would this start weeks after the injury? How could it wake me up from sleep? Medicine went for the kill. "That is exactly how Anxiety works." I had no leg to stand on (not a new thing to me). How could I prove that it wasnít Anxiety? Sure, I feel worried from time to time that I wonít be able to walk properly after this incident. But only slightly worried, and I am certainly not worried that I am going to die or anything like that. Ahhhh, but that is my conscious mind. What am I thinking in my unconscious mind? Well, I guess I donít know, if I did, it wouldnít be unconscious. I fell down on the mat, but Medicine kept punching. "You are totally obsessed with your leg." "Itís because you are cooped up and never get out anymore."
I do have to admit, I think about the leg a lot (like every time I go to stand up). Even this newsletter could show that I am obsessive about it. It was looking dark for our hero (thatís me). Worse, Medicine was starting to make sense about Anxiety, which was really getting me worried. Now, I not only have a broken leg, but I have the beginnings of mental illness. Then this morning I got my answerÖ
THE ONE-LEGGED PLUMBER
I crutched into the bathroom, I found that the toilet is clogged. Luckily, we have a plunger. However, I can not sit down anywhere to plunge. But I canít stand and have free hands. How can I do this? I am puzzling over it, when it hits me, BAM! This is interesting stuff. This is how we learn about life, by playing these "what if" games and sharing it with others. "What if you had no hands and you had to plunge a toilet?" "What if you broke your leg and had to have your wife shower you for two months?" These may not be earth-shattering revelations, but they do have value. It is this innate curiosity and sociality that created "From the Couch." As an actor, I try to experience life fully. Currently, I am experiencing a fully broken leg and in some strange ways I am sort of savoring the experience. And I am trying to share it with others. Iím OKAY. My obsession and this newsletter will CONTINUE!
YOU CANíT SPELL MEDICINE WITHOUT ME
I want to say in the cool reflection of my self-proclaimed sanity that I do not want to be too harsh on medicine. Letís face it, the human body is very complex and trying to figure out everything that is going on is difficult. So for the sake of the "From the Couch" legal team (and because I want to eat dinner tonight) let me just say, Doctors are Great!
MAILBAG (a.k.a Jeffís mail)
One of my fellow curious minds writes, "Do refrigerator magnets stick to your leg now?" This query is an example of the kind of silliness that is rampant in society. Everyone poses this kind of question as a joke, but secretly they wonder, "Do they?" The answer is NO, although I did feel a little pull. I would like to try a bigger magnet than the ones we had available. To be honest, this phenomenon could be the first reason that would make me want to keep the hardware. Think of the money I could make on bar bets.
HOW DO YOU PLUNGE A TOILET WITH NO HANDS?
Astute readers will notice I never really answered the question posed previously. Well, I am not going to give it away, but I will say this. I hope I can walk by the time Nina looks in the hamper again!