This is a “Sunday Story” – even though it’s Black Friday. There are no politics here – just a tale of finding a position to get some sleep!!!!
Old Injuries
I spent a lot of my life as an athlete. I started baseball at six, swimming at ten, then track and field and wrestling in Junior High. But it wasn’t a sports injury when I tore cartilage in my knee. I was in sixth grade, and in a fight (about what I don’t remember anymore – but I’m sure I was right!), I was on top of a kid, I think the term is “pummeling” him. His buddy toppled me off, and my knee got trapped under my original opponent. I just remember all three of us realizing that my body rotated, but my right lower leg did not. They both backed away – and I waited that second before the pain arrived.
Back then, it was six weeks on crutches and wear an ace bandage. Then you were “healed”. I actually didn’t finally get my right knee “repaired” until I was sixty, when my friendly Orthopedic cleaned out the damage.
Athlete/Coach
In high school wrestling there was a knee to the face, putting my nose up against my right cheek. It was early in the season, and I thought I could “live” with it until wrestling was over. Maybe I could, but my Mom sure couldn’t. She screamed when I walked in the door, and we were in a late-hours Ear, Nose and Throat office that night. Two days later – my nose was fixed. My clearest memory was laying in the pre-op room, listening to the orderlies talk about the unconscious older man on the next gurney. They were concerned – he needed several teeth removed, and they pulled them – then realized they pulled the “good” teeth. Only the “bad” teeth were left in his mouth. At the time I thought – “I’m glad I only have one nose!”
After college track, I started coaching. As a coach I was always keeping in shape, working out with my track athletes in the off-season, teaching middle schoolers how to wrestle (there was another broken nose) and running with the distance gang in the summer. So I was pretty much an athlete throughout my forty year coaching career. There were always some injuries, that damn knee, a couple of “sports” hernias, and an on and off back problem. But no big deals.
The Odd Shoulder
So when I foolishly managed to roll a lawn tractor on top of myself, I didn’t think much of the odd feeling in my shoulder. We flipped the tractor back over and went to work. It wasn’t until a couple of days later that my arm didn’t work right. When I reached up, all I felt was grinding and pain. Soon I wasn’t reaching up much anymore. I went back to my Orthopedic, and after some discussion and an MRI, he put his hand on my good shoulder and said, “You won’t be satisfied unless we fix that thing”. I trust Rod Comisar, and three weeks later I showed up for surgery.
When they said six weeks in a sling, then another five months of rehab, I really didn’t think a lot about it. The sling was a pain, it’s my left shoulder and I’m left handed. I couldn’t even type, my preferred means of expression these days. But I did my twice-daily therapy, looking forward to the words “no sling” and “weight bearing”.
Here I am, just eight weeks out. The sling – well I don’t wear it at all in the daytime. But, oddly, it’s an almost instant pain-killer at night, and I’m still trying to “wean” myself out of its nocturnal comforts.
More Pain
And about pain: I didn’t realize shoulder surgery is ALL about pain. The knee you could isolate and ice, the nose was a couple of day headache, the hernias were a couple of weeks then back in action. But there is no way around a shoulder. Every move, every cough, every change of position impacts both shoulders. So it’s been a pain from the beginning – especially when trying to sleep. I spent six weeks in a recliner, unable to even lay flat comfortably in bed. And now, a couple of weeks later, I’m learning how to sleep again, sometimes with the sling and sometimes without. But there’s always that movement. I instinctively put my hands behind my head as a sleep – it’s a lousy way to wake up. No wonder one of the first questions Dr. Comisar asks is “…are you sleeping?” The answer often is not so much.
Physical therapy takes me back to my weight room days, conditioning and competing with the kids. The battle cry of weights in the 1980’s and 90’s was “NO PAIN, NO GAIN” (and NO steroids). All of my current physical therapists must have trained in the same rooms. Pain is NOT guide to my therapy exercise. Pain, in fact, may mean I’m doing things right. But who’d have thought: here I am, lifting a can of corn (one pound) overhead and back for two sets of ten – and not only hurting but finding my arm shaking with exhaustion!! If I’m at one pound now – four more months doesn’t seem long enough to get back to anything that I consider normal.
Turkey Weight
And Thanksgiving was a true threat to my wellbeing. If my “weight bearing” is one pound, then how do I get a fifteen pound turkey in and out of the smoker? (I managed to use my right to get it in, and my son Joe helped get it out. It was delicious by the way, hickory smoked for six hours and so juicy and tender – even the white meat!!!). But there was that pan of cheesy potatoes; I didn’t think much about that until my re-attached bicep suggested that I was past my limits. I quickly switched position, no damage done. But the day was definitely a workout.
More pain, more gain – that’s the battle cry now. I depend on the awesome team of physical therapists to set the limits. And I AM listening to them. I just want to get back to normal: lifting up the “Chewy” pet food boxes on the front porch, sleeping on my stomach with my hands under my head, reaching for the top shelf without getting up on my toes (OK, I am short, so that happens anyway).
There’s a barbell set waiting for me to get to five pounds. And the stretchy tubular bands are arriving today (got to be the right age – “and Tubular Bells!!” of Exorcist fame). And there’s good occupational therapy coming up as well – the outdoor Christmas decorations need to go up!!!!
Maybe I’ll sleep better tonight.
