Surgery day
The big day.
They made it easy. We didn’t have to arrive until 10 a.m. for 11:30 surgery. Of course many more forms to fill out and then back to the prep area.
Such nice people. I was relatively relaxed. First thing they do is put you in a gown and then mark the shoulder they’re going to do. I was glad they did that.
Of course, it didn’t make that much difference, because about ten minutes later Jonathan came in to paint my arm from neck to hand with iodine. I’m thinking I could use this product to color my hair, because my arm and hair are the same color.
John sat with me and they brought me some nice warm blankets, which I really appreciated, and wrapped my red arm up in blue napkins so it wouldn’t stain the sheets. Eventually Dr. Weber came in to see me and ask if I had any questions. I had just started worrying about maybe not being under and not being able to communicate that. He told me I could worry about Syria or the election or world hunger or a dozen other things more productively.
Then Dr. Hughes, the anesthesiologist came in and told me that among other things, I wouldn’t be paralyzed for this surgery, so they would KNOW if I wasn’t under. So then I stopped worrying about that. I told her I had a cold sore and could she keep it lubricated. She said she was keeping me alive and wasn’t messing around with any grease that interfered with her tape that was keeping the tube in.
She gave me a relax drip in the IV, I waved goodbye to John and Lynda, and don’t remember anything until I woke up with my crowns intact (always a slight danger when they’re putting tubes down your throat) and a lot of pain in recovery. And, of course I was cold. They gave me some warm blankets, including around my head so I looked like I was wearing a burka, but I warmed up, and then they gave me some morphine for the road and sent me out with a big smile, because I was feeling no pain.
The doctor said I didn’t have a complete tear as was thought. He repaired the bicep that was out of place, ground off some bony pieces that rub against the muscles, and removed a bunch of scar tissue which he says is my main problem.
I’ve got a charming little vicodin for home, with light fruity overtones and a slight aroma of licorice. I enjoy it every three hours. I had so little pain during the night that I only took some half ones, but in the warm light of afternoon I can see that that’a not really enough, so I’ve gone back to the full ones.
I make a fist and turn my arm several times every hour and move my elbow out of the sling. Three times a day I take my arm completely out and let it hang and swing like a pendulum. That’s the really important one, and it’s to keep the scar tissue from reforming.
He gave me a video of my surgery. A lot of scar tissue. That seems to be where they spent most of their time. Fortunately, it's too long to upload, but I find it interesting.
Short note: The bats seem to have gone but we are still sleeping with the doors closed and John still does a bat check in the bedroom before we go to bed. He finishes his rabies shots next Sunday, May 13. I'm now allowing him to sleep in the bedroom instead of locked in the basement and he no longer is required to wear the muzzle out in public. So now we can get back to me.
Tomorrow is my surgery day. I'll be getting my rotator cuff tear repaired, and then I can start my journey to having full use of my arm again. I'm not looking forward to surgery, but I'm looking forward to having had it. It's a lot like many other things in my life. I've discovered that while I thought I wanted to write, I really wanted to have written. While I thought I wanted to be a great musician, I wanted to have accomplished it. While work was often rewarding, I was always looking forward to retirement.
Rehabbing my shoulder will be work, but much less work than the previous items, and with a relatively clear map of how to get from there to here.
So today I'm posting pictures of how much range of motion I have now, so I can compare after rehab.
This is how far and how straight I can get my arms up, which for the time being is retarding my goal of being an NFL referee.
Here I am with my hands outstretched. This limitation is probably all that stands between me and a successful career in ice skating.
Not sure what career you need this move for, but not being able to do it sure restricts moves like pulling up your pants and hooking up a bra. I guess succeeding at this would be the don't-have-to-live-in-a-nudist-camp move.
As for this one, well, if you can only move your arm this far, try washing your armpits. I guess I'd call recovery from this the friend stabilization move.
Okay, I've fooled around with this long enough. Now I've got to go clean the house in case well-meaning people decide to drop by, I don't want anybody to know what a pig I really am. Plus, I sort of want to get the worst of the dirt and grime out of my post-surgical resting places.
These last two pictures are just comparisons of how far the other arm moves.
