I am in a state of shock. I am typing this sitting in the doctor's consulting room, and he has just dashed in to give me the result of my hip scan. 'It' looks like you have a stress fracture.'
What???!!!
I have never had a broken bone in my life, and this is not good timing.
And a broken hip, of all things. I thought only old ladies got those. It didn't help when he offered to lend me a walking stick to take some of the weight off my hip.
'Oh, it's really not that bad. Hardly hurts at all, in fact,' I hastily reassured him.
So the New Jersey Marathon is now looking extremely unlikely. I envy Mojo. At least he knows he's going to be better again in a week. I have no idea when I'll be up and running again.
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'I met with someone today that I think you should also meet, her name is Roz Savage. She's recently rowed across the Atlantic (single-handed) and is in the process of making plans to do the same thing from San Francisco across the Pacific. (Yes, I know, we told her that she's crazy...but now having met her...she actually appears to be quite sane)'
A back-handed compliment in an email of introduction. And this from the man who employs a woman who swims with sharks.
The KKMI boatyard in Richmond Point (about 45 minutes from my home in Woodside) has kindly offered free berthing to Sedna, and a discount on their boatyard services. Paul proudly showed me around when I visited them there yesterday.
'And this is the engines workshop - we can lift out this skylight and crane the engine straight in. And over here we have the masts area, where we have plenty of space to unstep the mast, repair it, restep it...'
'Not that you need any of that stuff', his daughter Erica (on the left in the photo) chipped in. Exactly.
Paul also introduced me to his staff, including Ginger (on the right in the photo) and Debbie the shark lady (centre). 'But not white-tips', she assured me, as if this made it all OK.
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Floyd the Physio is becoming well-acquainted with my backside. Every weekday day for the last week he has iced it, massaged it, stretched it and passed electrical impulses through it. Nobody has been this intimate with my nether regions since I last got a bikini wax.
But despite his ministrations, my pain in the posterior persists.
This morning I went for an MRI scan, the first I'd ever had. It's a strange experience. I was instructed to change into clinic pants, size Large, I noticed ??" and indeed they were ??" even at my present much-increased weight I could have fitted two of me in there. I was then taken into the presence of The Machine, feeling something like the Cowardly Lion meeting the Wizard of Oz.
I lay down on the bed, they taped my feet together, and then I was slotted into the circular jaws of the machine. It introduced itself with a few deep and sonorous tones, then proceeded through pulsing waves of sound at various frequencies. 20 minutes and $1000 dollars later, it was over. Coincidentally the same cost as Mojo's paintwork.
I'm having to 'self-pay' for now, and claim it back later from my travel insurance. I'm not sure how much more my credit card can stand. Let's hope I get better soon, for many reasons.
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The Mojo-Mobile has had to go into hospital. Somebody trashed him in the car park at San Jose Airport while I was in San Diego over the weekend. They ran a key down his side - a long, deliberate scratch, double in places for good measure. And they bent up the sides of his 'Mojo Me' number plate. How could anybody do such a thing to such a cute little car?
So while I head for Oregon, Mojo has to stay here being repaired. An eye-watering $1000 for the new paintwork. His medical expenses are nearly as extortionate as mine.
Instead of zipping up Highway 1 in a cute little stick-shift Brit-car with a Union Jack on its roof, I shall be cruising up in a bland, boring, automatic Chevy Cobalt. Its only redeeming feature is its colour - red. If it was white it would be so anonymous it would disappear altogether.
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