Thursday, March 12, 2009

Innkeep, more whine!

Some of my faithful readers may or may not remember me saying I had torn my right rotator cuff at the start of the summer of 2000. I slipped at the very last job I ever had, and threw my arms out to maintain my balance. I slid about 10 feet, and never hit the floor. But what I didn't know was that I had two things wrong with my shoulder. One was the sharp edge that had developed along the end of my clavicle. The other was a loose tendon on the underside of the whole shoulder assembly. Thus, when I threw my warms out, my shoulder unhinged, a tendon along the top was raked by the sharp bone, and then everything went back into place, all within the time it took me to slide along the floor.

The surgery to fix everything involved using heat to tighten up the loose tendon underneath, debriding the tendon on top, shaving the head of the humerus because it showed signs of wear, and shaving that sharp edge on the clavicle. It sounds simple enough, and not all that painful, until it clicks inside one's head that shaving bones can be equated to BREAKING them! I didn't exactly understand what shaving a bone meant until I watched an actual tape of the surgery. The doc removed the top layer on the end of two different bones.

So it's really no surprise when all of the local anesthesia wore off and I was on the verge of tears. The sling I was given immobilized my upper and lower arm completely, and even then it wasn't held 100% in place. The slightest movement made me want to scream, and sleeping meant having to lie on my back and NOT MOVE! Any movement, and I was up in a flash, tears streaming down my cheeks from the pain.

That was almost nine years ago. One would think I could put it behind me and move on. That is, until the temperature outside takes a radical drop, say around 15 degrees Fahrenheit, and my shoulder reminds me of that surgery. As though I didn't have enough pain, recent weather changes have been adding to the pains I experience regularly. Even typing this relatively short post is irrtating, but I have orders from my little buddy, D-D, to keep people updated.

I'm off to quietly whimper and moan in bed. Be well, my friends...or, at the very least, be weller than I.

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