Just Because I Smell Bad and Snore Is No Reason I Should Have To Sleep On The Recliner
Yes, I still intend to reach my weight and fitness goals. No, it will not be easy, but more than ever I want the chance to step up to the plate and swing a baseball bat. Maybe the fact that a rotator cuff injury is so baseball increases my focus, but I know I am going to get this don.
I wrote this post for another of my blogs:
I don’t know how old time journalists used to type using only two fingers. Maybe that method is easier than using just one hand because using just one hand is next to impossible. I have tried that this week and all it did was frustrate me. Yes, I am typing with two hands today. Finally, thank you Lord.
After months of dealing with shoulder pain I had an MRI done a few weeks ago. My family physician had suggested that in December, but anyone who injures a shoulder trying to start a snow blower is too stupid and stubborn to go with the flow first time out. The MRI showed I had a large rotator cuff tear that would require surgery. I had this surgery on Monday 4/20, and this cathartic experience is my reliving of what happened; at least what I remember happened.
I did not understand why I had to arrive at the hospital two hours before my scheduled surgery time. It turned out to be fortunate I did. As I was being prepped for surgery, one of the nurses told me I had to take off my wedding ring because of the potential for swelling. I don’t take the ring off much, but normally it would slide off if I needed it to. Not last Monday. My ring finger was swollen, and we couldn’t get the ring off even using lotion. When one of the nurses said we might have to cut it off, I staged a mini-rebellion.
I have worn that same ring for almost 39 years. It isn’t fancy, but it was the perfect symbol for me and a long marriage. I knew it would hurt my wife a lot to have it destroyed and I was not going to allow it. Another nurse had a trick she wanted to try to remove it. She inserted what looked like dental floss between the ring and my finger, and then began to very tightly wind the floss/string around my finger to just past my knuckle. As she unwound the string, the ring moved up my finger, finally going above my knuckle where it slid off. A major disaster was averted.
I was offered the opportunity for a pain block, even though it meant an injection in my neck, and I am afraid of needles. OK, the fear borders on phobia. I decided to have the pain block because of what others who had the surgery advised. It was supposed to block the pain for up to 24 hours. It didn’t last that long for me, but I was very glad I had it. More on that later, but if you ever have a surgery and a pain block is offered, take it.
I can remember being wheeled into the cold surgery room and being transferred to the operating table. I remember nothing else until I woke up about three hours later. A sip of ice water was heavenly, as I had nothing to drink for 15 hours. I was not terribly sore, even though the tear was “significantly” worse than expected, and the procedure had lasted over an hour longer than the surgeon thought it would take. That was thanks to the pain block.
In the recovery room my wife showed me a diagram Dr. Fischer had made of how the tear was stitched. A normal routine looked reasonably simple, but what he had to do looked like the scribbles of a five year old child. Given my age-58 is not old to me-and the extent of the tear, the doctor said my recovery would likely take 16-18 weeks. I was just happy that the shoulder was fixed and that at some point simple tasks like washing my hair would be simple again.
Unfortunately those simple tasks were not going to be simple right away. I cannot lift my left arm above my shoulder, and I am not supposed to reach-grab-lift with my left arm. I could only take sponge baths until I saw the doctor on Thursday to remove the dressing. I soon discovered those were really the least of my worries.
When I came home I got right on the computer, which says something about me and I am afraid it is not something good. I didn’t feel bad at all. I even thought that my friends who had rotator cuff surgery were kidding me about the pain. My son Matt told me he didn’t know what they had given me at the hospital, but he hoped we could get more of the stuff because I was actually quite pleasant. About 3:00 a.m. the pain block wore off, and I learned my friends were not kidding at all. No more Mister Nice Guy. My shoulder hurt, and just like they said, it hurt worse than any pain I had ever had. I had already been taking pain pills to try to keep ahead of the pain, but for the next 24 hours the pills barely kept up with the pain.
To add insult to injury I had to sleep in my recliner. A lot of pain with very little sleep makes someone who is cranky on good days something much more than cranky. I think this was the patient my family had been expecting. I stayed home from work Tuesday-Thursday, and Thursday morning went to see the doctor. The dressing was removed, I got a different sling, and the doctor explained the surgery to me, although it was basically what he had already told Jane. He also prescribed physical therapy. The first four weeks were to be passive, basically the therapist moving my arm in various ways, with me doing nothing.
I worked five hours on Friday. It was good to get back to a more normal routine, though one arm in a sling is not an efficient way to do my job-I am a Controller. Friday afternoon I had my first rehab session.
My pharmacist daughter in-law Steph reminded me to take a pain pill before I went to rehab, a very good idea. I do have a few exercises to do-well, if you call actions like palms up/palms down exercises-but mostly it was the therapist moving my arms in various stretches. Although I was supposed to tell her to stop when the pain increased, I suffered through most of the routine, figuring a few more seconds of each routine might be important in getting back my range of motion quicker.
My arm was sore after the rehab session, and it is sore now. I have been trying to back off the pain pills a little, and went nine hours between pills last night. I iced my shoulder three times as was suggested, and I already have done one set of my “exercises” today. And I will do them two more times as well.
The father of one of Jane’s co-workers had rotator cuff surgery, and Jane’s friend said her father “wasn’t the same after.” Well, I don’t intend to be the same either. I intend to be better. The physical therapy will just be part of my routine to get back into shape, and all of my goals on still on the table, although on the table might not be the best metaphor. I am going to work hard at getting better.
No road trips for me this weekend. No races, no baseball games, just me and my recliner. A friend asked me what I was reading-I am a voracious reader-but I have not been reading much of anything. I love newspapers, but I have only been reading the front and back pages of each section, and I haven’t read any books at all. Maybe I’ll change that today.
I have been Twittering. I don’t know if Twitter was supposed to be part of my rehab plan, but it is something I have been able to do one-handed, so Twitter and the card game ‘Spider’ have been my entertainment. I have added quite a few Twitter followers this week, and I hope some of you will follow me there to.
Thanks.
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