Recovery 101
We only need to hear the occasional news reports to know that somewhere close to home there are people recovering from tragedies, be it floods, fires, self imposed or individuals breaking the law. Most recently the bombing in Boston has had the airways a buzz with dozens of individuals harmed from bombs made out of metal shards that ripped through the limbs of marathon runners and spectators. Recovery and rehabilitation for these will not come quickly or easily. Still to come is the amount of personal property recovery that will be taking place in the Fargo and Moorhead areas as flood waters are being measured. There is only so much that can be moved to safety compared to how much will be sifted through after the muddy waters recede and people return to homes and businesses. Levels of recovery are as unique as the stars in the sky.
In the recent past I needed to address a situation that would involve recovery for “Me, Myself, and I.” I knew I had to bite the bullet when discomfort combined with less than good mobility became an everyday issue. This I deemed as absolutely unacceptable – I did not want to settle for a left arm that would be termed as palsy (partially paralyzed). It may be thought that the current situation came totally from a fall in January of 2011 when I dislocated my shoulder in what they termed as a posterior dislocation. Dislocating the shoulder to the back is a bit more serious as nerves for mobility found in that general vicinity of the arm are easily starved from a blood supply and may not recover once the shoulder is put back in place. Wouldn’t you know it? I fell into that category. The nerve conduction test that I went through indicated that the left arm’s reaction to electrical stimulation was at less than three percent of the right arm. That test reminded me of touching an electrical fence many, many, many times. Dennis was there to wipe the tears as the electrical jolts were issued on various places of each arm. Nothing could be done further until the nerve regenerated itself enough to warrant any further medical investigation. Any thought of surgery was out of the question as messing with nerves that work perfectly well is a crap shoot, let alone one that is unresponsive. The end result could have left more damage than I was currently experiencing.
I went through enough physical therapy to understand what I needed to do to challenge the damaged nerve. The Super 8 swimming pool had been my choice of exercise in the past, but now it was my life line to put pressure on the use of the arm with two empty gallon milk jugs while the buoyancy of the water protected me from further injury to the arm. During the first year I never reached for anything with the left arm without the arm giving up and dropping to my side. The second year things were going better with the use of the arm and I began having pain. The pain indicated to me that the nerves were firing and feeling the reactions of my actions. My belief was “If you don’t like how this feels – how do you like this?” I kept working the arm harder and harder.
This late spring I knew I needed to go back to the orthopedic specialist and show him I now had nerves that maybe had not regenerated themselves 100% but hopefully it was enough for further investigation. The X-ray that had been taken two years before indicated that the shoulder was in place but now for the first time an MRI was warranted. It was exciting and frightening for Dennis and me to meet with the specialist to see what he saw. The rotator cuff was hanging by a mere thread and most likely that had happened at the time I had fallen and was part of the culprit that was bucking and giving discomfort as now it could tell me it was not happy and it was going to hurt. The good news was that I could have surgery to recover mobility and receive relief of pain. The bad news was that the shoulder was bone on bone as the wonder of arthritis had done a great job of taking away all cartridge. The fall had nothing to do with that.
We would have to go back decades to uncover the start of ravage done by arthritis. Lifting of hay and straw bales may have caused irritation that gives the first bit of arthritis a strong hold into joints. How many instances of inflammation had there been over sixty years? My parents were hard workers and the four of us kids never gave it a thought as to why we shouldn’t give it the same effort. The excitement of Orlin and I having a chance to farm was exhilarating, challenging and came with lots of hard physical work. We never backed down and always drew a deep satisfying breath when a day set and the work had been accomplished. Milk cows were literally our bread and butter. Orlin and I were a team in the dairy barn as well as the barns for hogs and chickens. Carrie was a part of the team by default as she peeked out above the straw bales that became her playpen away from the house. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her unattended in the straw playpen as she had escaped once and had her head caught in-between the wooden slats that the young calves stuck their heads through to get at their feed. She was too innocent to realize that a calf licking her face from the back side of those slots might be less than good. Carrie went up with me in the silo with her facing me in a homemade sling. While I used the pick ax to loosen up frozen silage to throw down the chute, Carrie had a few toys to play with at the opposite side. All was fine until her mittens came off and the fingers needed warming up. We worked hard and slept hard after long days.
The sturdy recovery chair
So after a brief journey down memory lane the shoulder being bone on bone was not a total surprise and the remedy would be a Reverse Shoulder operation. Where the socket now is in the left shoulder the ball will be and where the ball is will become the socket. I have not and will not check out any visuals via the internet. If these titanium parts serve me as well as my titanium knees have for the last nine years I will be a happy camper, a happy gardener and a happy quilter. My job was to get a second opinion and several testimonies from the doctor’s former patients. All systems are a go. Dennis has moved his favorite computer chair into the living room for the impending recovery days. A friend of Dennis’ made the chair out of 2×4’s with a great varnished finish. I will have room to sit in the chair as my arm will be in a sling for six weeks. The chair is heavy and high enough to where I can sit and then get up without having it move away from me.
As of this date I have seven days to get my act together here in our home. Dennis just smiles as I am cleaning everything and anything. He knows I will be more content in my recovery if I don’t hear the screeching of a forgotten dust bunny or two. I have several one-armed, quiet activities ready to go for the time when I feel I need to do something to have an end product. Labeling photos before I forget who the people are in the photos is a good thing. My recovery will be just as unique as each star in the heavens. At night – and sometimes even during the day – I say my prayers and add a P.S. and ask God to watch over me during the surgery and for a lot of patience afterward.
In life, please give and have no remembrance of it, or take and remember it always.