My Achilles Heel

For years, my two Achilles tendons have always done a fine job. That was until March 23, 2007, when the right one decided to break apart from my loose federation of free and flexible limbs.

Sure, the break-up took some provocation on my part: I went to a place where I wasn't really supposed to be, gathered too much speed, ignored the mystery of blind corners and wham! I hit a pile of huge rocks that caused a tearing deceleration and a spectacular separation of the man from his skis and tendon...

Today, I suppose that most of that poor Achilles tendon hides all curled up into the depth of the right calf muscle that reluctantly plays host to the intruder. Ever since the incident, that muscle has been protesting, sending me a daily dose of painful signals.

Tomorrow, a modern shaman will attempt to reunite the tendon with its heel attachment and will pour a white cast over the whole thing in order to contain the crisis for ten to fourteen more days.

I'll soon let you know how the relationship patches up...