Just call me Nosetradamage

A Twilight Zone experience befell me on Thursday, August 16th. I was awakened by a very powerful dream the crux of which were the words “You need help!” Soon I would! Hurricane Flossie was more of a HoHumicane. It provided a slight bump in the wind and the surf. Surfing buddy and good friend Doyle Smith and I met for some dawn patrol at White Plains beach. The waves were moderate but choppy. The conditions were not inviting. We paddled out and were waiting for the next set when I noticed that a wave a little larger than the rest was coming our way. As I have hundreds of times before I paddled into the breaking wave knowing exactly what to expect – the wave would throw the nose of the board at my face. It did and for that I was prepared. What I did not expect and have not experienced in forty some years of surfing was the breaking wave, much like a large powerful hand, slamming my lovely head into the rising nose of the board. We met underwater and the old sensations (surprisingly, one of smell) of being belted stoutly in the nose were revived. I came up out of the wave and could see the bridge of the nose was already swollen. In fact, it looked broken. Keep in mind that in February of this year this same nose endured significant repairs.

It is also a good time to point out that occasionally we arrive at the same beach to discover signs posted warning of sharks. They are always in the area. So, here I am bleeding from a laceration across the bridge of the nose and bleeding from both nostrils in waters known to be inhabited by blood loving beasties. I immediately surrendered all thoughts of continuing to surf and began the long paddle to shore. Doyle, God bless him, stayed with me keeping an eye out for waves, beasties and to insure that I would not fall off the board and try to breathe underwater. Just like the dream said, I needed help. What the dream failed to mention was that a brother in Christ would provide that help.

The swelling has subsided. The jokes regarding husband abuse are growing. Sandy dragged me to the hospital where a surfer/doctor commiserated with me, found that the nose is not broken and cleared me for more surfing. Thank you, Doyle! Thank you, Sandy! Thank you, Lord!