Ball to the Wall (Or, Okay Stop!)

Three weeks after shoulder surgery, I still have gray gummy stripes on my upper arm – glue residue from the incision bandage. I can shower normally now (only sponge baths at first), but am not supposed to scrub my upper arm. Incisions are healing.

Those gummy glue stripes do not concern me in the least. By now I’m well into the physical therapy that, the PT predicts, will restore me to 100% of my former self in a matter of months. Or something close to it.

The photo at right is Yours Truly executing what must look like a simple PT maneuver. It isn’t; it hurts to do it. And I can’t raise my right arm that high without the aid of that ball on the wall.

The surgery repaired a ripped rotator cuff and torn biceps tendon. By the next day the nerve block that deadened my arm had worn off, so (very much against doctor’s orders) I picked up my guitar. Photo below. I wanted to see how much it would hurt to play.

The answer? It hurt a lot. Probably not my smartest move of the day. I was still flying on pain meds. I don’t exactly regret what was, in truth, a petty and stubborn bit of defiance. But I probably should not have done it.

As the guitar photo shows, my right arm was still wrapped in an elastic bandage, which would remain on for another three days. And you can see the tops of the compression socks I had to wear. Those stayed on one more day. I couldn’t stand ’em any longer.

Physical therapy started about ten days later. As the first session began, the PT said, “This may hurt a little” – code, I soon realized, for “This is going to hurt a lot!” As he bent my shoulder and elbow well beyond my pain threshold, I kept thinking about the Crooked Media podcast Lovett or Leave It, on which they play a game called “Okay, Stop!” That is what I wanted to scream to the PT, in more emphatic terms.

But now: whining mode off. Over the course of the last few years, a friend of mine has undergone several joint replacement operations, and I think still has at least one more to go. Her spirit throughout has been impressively upbeat. By comparison, what I’m enduring is nothing.

Yes, I can count my blessings. Yes, everyone is welcome (if not invited) to tell me to shut the fuck up! (Or at least, Okay, stop!)

Below is something totally unrelated to the preceding, and thus more interesting. It has been much on my mind of late and is worth a listen.