Thoughts On the Ride Home

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Leg towels attached to crotch. Hips. I put my arms in the rope slings I'd hung earlier to support them in the right position once I could let go of my towel. I started feeling as though the plaster may be slipping down a bit in the areas we had assumed were stable. The way that I could tell was that I started feeling a slow and increasing tug on the hairs on the fronts of my legs. Waist. Chest. Shoulders working to arms. It's taking longer than Jon was hoping, and by now the slippage is becoming obvious and omnipresent on the front of my body. Forearms. Hands. Fingers.

Nomads descending out of the hills in the fall. I've seen it in Nepal, Kashmir,Pakistan, Iran, Nevada. The respect and hospitality shown to the traveller in arid climes is legendary. The Bible shows examples of kindness to traveller and I'm guessing the Koran, with it's origins in deserts, is also filled with them.

Pain and panic. All done except the face and the paster is warming up. The hair on the front of my body is under assault as the plaster harden and continues to sag-just enough to tug on more hairs. I gotta get out of here!

Had I mentioned my obsession with weight for the last couple years? Leading up to the casting, I was working so hard and obsessing about my weight so much that I was down to 207 lbs-the lowest for 25 years and 10 lbs less than a week before. My energy was low and I was probably a little dehydrated to start with. Now, I'm hot all over and in danger of losing consciousness. (Lonnie's husband and good friend of mine, Geritt arrived about now but I didn't realize he'd entered the room for several minutes.)

Inside of 1st mold.
Dark areas indicate hair!
I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE-no way we were going to be able to complete the face. They spray me down with a weed-sprayer destined for the playa and the coolness helps, but I still got to get out. Jon tells me to set out of the mold. NO WAY. Every hair in contact with the plaster seems stuck. I can wiggle the fingers on my right hand enough to start tearing them out of the mold. First the hairs on the backs of each finger. One at a time they stop being attached to me to be left in the plaster. The back of the hand. My hand is almost free! rip, rip, rip, out comes the forearm. Jon, Terry and Lonnie take turns reaching their fingers (or metal rulers) in between the cast and the sides of my body. A quick sideways motion shears off a few dozen hairs at a time. Finally, I get the right arm free! Only took 5 minutes. The pulling of the hairs on my chest is bringing tears to my eyes. Before I manage to tear the left arm out of its cage, I use the right hand to start shearing the stuck neck hairs away. They are now able to reach more than an inch into my sides-the shearing slides become more effective-and painful. I get my neck hair torn out and start using a 12" ruler to slide through the painful chest hairs. I eventually can reach my arm into the gap between the mold and neck and assault the chest hair in earnest. Armpit hairs free and I finally have most of the chest and both arms free. Pubic hair! Every pulled one out by accident? Imagine ripping them all out. Legs still stuck, but from the outside my helpers have freed up some, I have to rip out the rest of the thigh hair myself. Tear out the few hairs on the knee. My legs are shaky-I've been wanting to escape for over 30 minutes already and I still have both calves to free up and I can tell that both ankles are locked in to the plaster-we went a bit too far around them to allow me to slip out. Jon sets a tall stool up behind me and I can sit down-still stuck from the knees down, but the rest of the body cools quickly. More pain as the rest of the leg hairs are torn away along with the hairs on the backs of each toe, the tops of the feet, but finally most of the hairs are gone we now have to try o bend the plaster enough to pull out each ankle. I'M FREE. 45 minutes. I gotta take a shower and eat and drink a lot of water!

At my first BM, I thought back to what it must have been like to come down out of the hills a thousand years ago to the yearly bazaar. A time to get together with family, friends, enemies and best of all, strangers. A time to swap goods & tales, find mates and indulge in excessive revelry. You wore your best clothes, you probably even bathed. A good time had by all. It's not reality, not sustainable and in a day or a week, its back to life in the real world. Ahhhh! but there WILL be next year! Where did my lotion go?I hope I didn't leave it in CO or pack it too deep to find it soon. Hands still need a lot of help. Cracked Claws.

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	Leg towels attached to crotch. Hips. I put my arms in the rope slings I'd hung earlier to support them in the right position once I could let go of my towel. I started feeling as though the plaster may be slipping down a bit in the areas we had assumed were stable. The way that I could tell was that I started feeling a slow and increasing tug on the hairs on the fronts of my legs. Waist. Chest. Shoulders working to arms. It's taking longer than Jon was hoping, and by now the slippage is becoming obvious and omnipresent on the front of my body. Forearms. Hands. Fingers.

	Nomads descending out of the hills in the fall. I've seen it in Nepal, Kashmir,Pakistan, Iran, Nevada. The respect and hospitality shown to the traveller in arid climes is legendary. The Bible shows examples of kindness to traveller and I'm guessing the Koran, with it's origins in deserts, is also filled with them.
	Pain and panic. All done except the face and the paster is warming up. The hair on the front of my body is under assault as the plaster harden and continues to sag-just enough to tug on more hairs. I gotta get out of here!
	Had I mentioned my obsession with weight for the last couple years? Leading up to the casting, I was working so hard and obsessing about my weight so much that I was down to 207 lbs-the lowest for 25 years and 10 lbs less than a week before. My energy was low and I was probably a little dehydrated to start with. Now, I'm hot all over and in danger of losing consciousness. (Lonnie's husband and good friend of mine, Geritt arrived about now but I didn't realize he'd entered the room for several minutes.)
	Inside of 1st mold. Dark areas indicate hair!	I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE-no way we were going to be able to complete the face. They spray me down with a weed-sprayer destined for the playa and the coolness helps, but I still got to get out. Jon tells me to set out of the mold. NO WAY. Every hair in contact with the plaster seems stuck. I can wiggle the fingers on my right hand enough to start tearing them out of the mold. First the hairs on the backs of each finger. One at a time they stop being attached to me to be left in the plaster. The back of the hand. My hand is almost free! rip, rip, rip, out comes the forearm. Jon, Terry and Lonnie take turns reaching their fingers (or metal rulers) in between the cast and the sides of my body. A quick sideways motion shears off a few dozen hairs at a time. Finally, I get the right arm free! Only took 5 minutes. The pulling of the hairs on my chest is bringing tears to my eyes. Before I manage to tear the left arm out of its cage, I use the right hand to start shearing the stuck neck hairs away. They are now able to reach more than an inch into my sides-the shearing slides become more effective-and painful. I get my neck hair torn out and start using a 12" ruler to slide through the painful chest hairs. I eventually can reach my arm into the gap between the mold and neck and assault the chest hair in earnest. Armpit hairs free and I finally have most of the chest and both arms free. Pubic hair! Every pulled one out by accident? Imagine ripping them all out. Legs still stuck, but from the outside my helpers have freed up some, I have to rip out the rest of the thigh hair myself. Tear out the few hairs on the knee. My legs are shaky-I've been wanting to escape for over 30 minutes already and I still have both calves to free up and I can tell that both ankles are locked in to the plaster-we went a bit too far around them to allow me to slip out. Jon sets a tall stool up behind me and I can sit down-still stuck from the knees down, but the rest of the body cools quickly. More pain as the rest of the leg hairs are torn away along with the hairs on the backs of each toe, the tops of the feet, but finally most of the hairs are gone we now have to try o bend the plaster enough to pull out each ankle. I'M FREE. 45 minutes. I gotta take a shower and eat and drink a lot of water!
At my first BM, I thought back to what it must have been like to come down out of the hills a thousand years ago to the yearly bazaar. A time to get together with family, friends, enemies and best of all, strangers. A time to swap goods & tales, find mates and indulge in excessive revelry. You wore your best clothes, you probably even bathed. A good time had by all. It's not reality, not sustainable and in a day or a week, its back to life in the real world. Ahhhh! but there WILL be next year!			Where did my lotion go?I hope I didn't leave it in CO or pack it too deep to find it soon. Hands still need a lot of help. Cracked Claws.