While writing this blog post here at Honda, one of the managers came up to introduce himself. I reached out to shake his hand, trying to look normal and not in pain. As my arm extended, I must have moved my pelvis and something got pinched somewhere. Before our hands clasped, I’d fallen over on the couch with a grimace and had my hand inside my pants, frantically trying to release the offending object while I held my knees in the air. The man stood in front of me in silence. I didn’t blame him. When I retracted my hand and tried to explain, he seemed to need to get on with his duties. I wonder why.
How much longer; oh, how much longer. And what am I doing to myself. Help me. I want to escape – not from the device, but from the fishing line, epoxy and all the associated challenges.