T minus 25 days.      Swimming day.

Can't move arms.  Also broke calf muscle.   In. the. water.
I thought I was making progress.  I thought things were getting better.  Wrong.  Very, very wrong.   
I made it to the pool without hyperventilating or crying.  Progress.  I made it safely past the noodle waving ladies.  Progress.  I found an open lane not surrounded by octogenarians.  Progress.  I swam a few laps without stopping and not doing the doggie paddle alone.  Progress, progress, progress.  I even shared the laser beam focus of the lifeguard's attention with the six year old in lane one.  If that's not progress I don't know what is.  So with all this progress I was feeling a bit, shall we say,  Michael Phelpsish.  I started to crank it up.  Freestyle.  Head all the way down.  Kicking those legs.  Cupping those hands and pulling that water through.  Feeling that heart beating.  Cutting through that water like a hot knife through butter.   Faster, faster.  Oh, yeah, baby, you are good.  You are strong.  You are...... OWWW!!!  Pain.  Pain in so many places.  Pain all at once.  Pain, pain, pain.   Pain shooting out of my arms and legs.  Pain in my head.  Pain in my chest. Pain shooting out of my eyes.  Yes, I said my eyes. 
Progress?  Yeah, I'm making progress, alright.  Right to the convalescent home.