Oh man, I let myself get burned. Despite my brown skin, even I am not immune to the effects of the California sun.

Geeky fact of the day: I just realized that seawater is essentially 3% saline, the same concentration that we use for infusions in cases of increased intracranial pressure and in cases of severe hyponatremia requiring rapid correction.

He gazed expectantly at the breaking wall of water, shimmering green and blue in the sparkling sun. The wave slapped him around, stinging him with its icy chill. He kept at it, turning again to face the on-coming torrent crashing against him. On and on he met them head-on, some bizarre Quixote-like figure tilting at the crests and the breakers, until his skin tingled, as if prickling needles ran up and down his spine. Eventually, the chill made him clench his teeth, and his jaw ached, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

The ocean always makes me realize just how numb I’ve become. Like blood suddenly pulsing through tightly constricted limbs, the first thing you feel is excruciating pain. It’s true what they say, pain is a sign that you’re still alive, that the tissue can be salvaged. It’s when you’re numb that you’re at highest risk for losing a limb, or damaging your joints, or getting an infection.

Despite the itching discomfort and the flushing redness, making me glow lobster-red, I don’t regret it one bit.