my days of playing rugby are over.
I can't say I'm completely surprised. It's a tough game and I'm not getting any younger. My body needs a little more rest than it used to, a few less beers and cheeseburgers, a little more, "Camp Naughty-Naughty Sex" and a yearly vacation to someplace warm and quiet.
I'm grateful I won't need surgery, however the road of therapy Im on is a journey of ten thousand miles, and to be completely honest, each fucking step is agony.
I called work to let them know the deal. I can go back to work whenever. I will be placed on, "administrative duty" until further notice, which basically means filling out paperwork and keeping the gun cage clean for the real heros. Sometimes you just can't win. I feel like a fucking jerk for wanting a little consoling but, having my world tipped upside down while trying to do my fellow man a good turn, really fucking sucks.
No matter what though, I will alwayz be able to look into my sunshine and lose my self in the daze.