Adventures in freakdom.
Motherfucker.
Oh, hi. How’ve you been? I’ve been mostly good, hiking all the time, staying outside and sweating like hell.
I’ve been hurting, too. If you recall, back in early June when I went whitewater rafting, our moron guide managed to run us into another raft in the middle of a Class IV rapid, and I injured my right shoulder foolishly trying to stop a 7-person raft pushed by a whole river with my arms.
“Looks like a bruised rotator cuff,” the first orthopedic surgeon said when I went to see him a couple of days after the accident. “Give it a few days of rest, and if it’s not better in two weeks, come back to see me.”
The first ten days after the accident, the pain got exponentially better. I went from constant agony to constant ache to occasional ache with pain when I moved my arm certain ways.
I was ecstatic, and planned another rafting trip for a July weekend while Robyn was in Maine.
Two weeks after seeing the orthopedic surgeon my arm wasn’t healed, though. I had about 75% of the mobility back, intense pain when I did certain movements, and days where my shoulder ached all day long (I suspect sleeping on it had something to do with those achy days). I waited two more weeks to see what would happen.
Nothing is what happened, so I cancelled the second rafting trip and went back to see the surgeon. After explaining my symptoms and the movements that hurt (and putting up with his cracks on the fact that I got run over by a raft on the Ocoee River), he made a different prognosis.
“This ring of cartilage in your shoulder joint is called the labrum,” he said, pointing at a chart on the wall showing an open view of a shoulder. He made a fist with one hand and wrapped the other around it. “It pads between the ball of your humerus and the glenoid cavity of your scapula.”
He rotated his fist around inside his open hand to demonstrate the movement of my shoulder joint.
“In situations with a sudden jerking or wrenching”–he paused long enough to smirk–”like trying to stop a moving raft with your arms, this cartilage can tear, and I think that might have happened to you. Let’s get an MRI, see what’s going on in there for sure.”
“If that’s what it is, how long does it take to heal?”
“It doesn’t. The only thing you can do with cartilage is try and go in and fix the damage. But let’s see what the MRI shows first.”
The MRI came and went, and a couple of days later I found a message on my machine at work: Dr. M had reviewed the MRI, and it indicated a possible labral tear or a possible biceps tendon separation. He thought it prudent that I go to Dr. F, the shoulder specialist.
No explanation was given as to why they hadn’t given me to the shoulder specialist first.
And that, boys and girls, brings us to this morning and Dr. F’s office, where I found myself sitting when he and his very attractive 20-ish female assistant came through the door. Introductions were made all around, and he got right to business.
“So Dr. M thinks you may have a labral tear,” he said, putting the MRI films into the lighted holder. I had no idea they were so detailed, and was fascinated by seeing the inside of my body.
“Or a possible biceps tendon separation,” I said.
“The first thing I see is a couple of huge arthritic spurs right here in your acromioclavicular joint.” He pointed to the top of my shoulder on the MRI film. “Have you ever had any other trauma to the shoulder, an accident, maybe falling off your bike as a kid?”
I considered. “Nope, nothing.”
He studied the MRI some more.
“Here,” he said to the assistant, and pointed at two of the images. “This looks like a small tear, less that ten millimeters.”
Well, it fucking HURTS like it’s ten feet, I wanted to say, but didn’t.
He traced along the MRI image with a finger for a second, then stopped.
“Oh, I see,” he said, then to the assistant: “Look here. It looks like the labrum’s been partially ripped right off the bone here.”
Sometimes in life you hear a turn of phrase that makes your balls suck up into your torso. The labrum’s been partially ripped right off the bone is one such phrase.
He turned to me. “Hop up on the table over here.”
I hopped.
“Take your shirt off, please.”
I’m fully certain that had he not had the hot young female assistant in there with him, he wouldn’t have asked this. Reluctantly I removed my shirt, painfully aware of my scars and loose skin. He took my right arm in one hand and told me to relax it.
“Does this hurt?”
“No.”
“This?”
“A little.”
“This?”
“No.”
And so it went for a couple of minutes. Creepily, at one point he had me hold my arms at my sides, bent at the elbows so my hands were in front of me with palms facing. He put his hands outside mine and told me to resist him, then pushed inward. My left arm held solid and my right simply folded. It hurt, too.
“Now lay down with your head down here,” he said, pointing.
He took my left arm, pulled it back over my head, and rotated the lower section of my arm. Then he took my right one and did the same thing.
From the assistant’s point of view, I imagine it looked like someone plugged me into an electrical socket. My legs flew up, then beat a tattoo on the table. I flailed, and moaned. Tears ran out of both eyes and tracked down towards my ears. I panted like a horse at the end of a race.
“That was the clinical test for a labral tear,” he said.
“Please don’t do it again,” I whispered.
He did a few more movements, all of which hurt because of that initial labral tear test (for the record, my shoulder still hurts from that).
“I think I can improve things,” he told me. “But you need to understand that labral tear repair is only successful about 85% of the time. Your shoulder will never be perfect, or even as good as it was, but I think I can get it better than it is now.”
Well, fuck.
“First,” he continued. “I’ll go ahead and take off those spurs, because I think they’re causing some impingement on your rotator cuff. Then I’ll cut away the torn part of the labrum. Finally, to reattach it to your scapula, I’ll drill into the bone and put in a screw with sutures coming out of it. I’ll use the sutures to connect the labrum back to the bone and eventually it’ll grow attached again.”
Cringing yet? Imagine being there and knowing they’re going to do that to you.
“You’ll wear a sling for two weeks,” he said. “And it’ll take up to a year for you to be fully recovered. The sutures I’m putting in aren’t even strong enough to hold the weight of your arm, so you’ll need to be very careful in everything you do so you don’t tear it again. After about 12 weeks, you should be about 90% as recovered as you’re going to get, and you’ll be able to resume mostly normal activity.”
I cannot even imagine three months of not working out, hiking, or kayaking. Of just sitting around not moving.
On the brighter side, maybe I won’t have to cut the grass.
“Okay,” I said.
“I don’t want to delude you. Make sure you understand there’s no guarantee of success, and that your shoulder’s never going to be what it once was.”
But when your only other option is a lifetime of pain, is there really a choice?
“I understand,” I said.
Then, out of the blue: “Did you lose a significant amount of weight recently?”
I can only assume the scars clued him in. I told him I had done that a few years ago, then answered the questions on how I’d done it. We discussed my health and how good it is now, and working out.
“How important is lifting weights to you?”
“Pretty important,” I said.
“There are going to be things you can never do in a weight room again. No more military presses, no pulldowns behind your head.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t do those anyway. I don’t do specific shoulder work, I just let them build from chest and arm stuff.”
“You won’t be able to do normal bench presses any more. You’ll have to keep the weight six inches above your chest. You won’t be able to do normal flies any more either. You can’t let the weight drop out of your peripheral vision.”
“To be honest, right now I’m most concerned about making it not hurt any more.”
“I think I can help with that.”
And that was that. Next Friday morning, he’s going to go into my shoulder, take it all apart, then put it back together again, hopefully better than it is now.
Hopefully good enough to hold up should I feel the need to drive up to Ocoee and kick a certain guide’s ass simply because it would make me feel better to do so.
Just now, when I told my dad, he said, “Well, it could’ve been worse. It could’ve been your left shoulder. Then you wouldn’t be able to write.”
“It’s my ass-wiping hand, Dad. There’s no way it could be worse.”
He certainly got a kick out of that.
I think I’m going to tell Robyn she’ll have to wipe my ass while my arm’s in a sling.
If you want to get notified whenever Fred writes a journal entry, this link will do the trick.
| S | M | T | W | T | F | S |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| « Jul | Sep » | |||||
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | |
| 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |
| 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |
| 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 |
| 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | |||
Ummm…Ouch.
I’m still doing the hard swallow to keep from puking. Very weak stomach, I have…
At least you should get some good pain meds with the surgery, right?
That totally sucks. I am so sorry, Fred….
(((
That was supposed to be a sad face. Not an angry one. :S
Hey Fred! I hope that you are one of the 85% that the surgery helps. I can’t imagine going through all that and STILL having pain! We’ll be thinking of you next week!
Also - was checking out the links on your blog from the last couple of days and I just want to know — WHERE THE HELL DO YOU FIND SOME OF THESE SITES?????? LMAO The one with all the uh, unfortunate accidents was funny, yet horrifying. I also clicked on some other links on that site and found some more interesting tales of pleasure gone wrong. Thanks for sharing the links! I consider myself to be better informed now. hehe
How I would love to be a fly on the wall when you tell Robyn that she has to wipe your ass! The air will be a lovely shade of blue, I’m sure.
Aw Fred! I am so sorry for your injury.
Note to Robyn, Fred can bend over in the shower and let the water clean him up-no need for ass-wiping!
I’m sure that everyone is going to chime in with their shoulder surgery stories. I’m going to tell you mine. My arm kept popping out of it’s socket, and the more it does that, the more it does that AND the harder it gets to put it back in. It eventually got to the point where it popped out when I raised my hand to my mouth to cough, and not only could I not put it back in myself, I had to go to the ER (where the doc literally put his foot in my armpit and jerked my arm to get it to go back in!) Anyway, the orthopedic surgeon sliced the muscle lengthwise and crosswise, then layered it for strength, and stitched it up with 250 stitches. My outside scar is about 8″ or so, but curved and is exactly underneath my bra strap. (Fred, I’m guessing this won’t be a concern for you.) My arm was strapped to my body for six full weeks. I had a “Two-Handed Celebration” when it was done, and people had to say something you could only do with two hands to get in. (Hush, I was only 21 then and six weeks is a long time!) Anyway, the surgery was a total success. It hasn’t popped out since, and that was 1983! (Yes, I’m 43 for those of you playing along at home.) So good luck, and my thoughts will be with you!
Thanks, guys. Here’s hoping the next few months don’t suck.
Oh Fred….I’m really sorry that this turned out the way it did. These permanent injuries that happen to people make me really sad, for some strange reason. It sounds like you won’t suffer too much of a change in your daily routines & habits, but still….What a bummer. I’ll be thinkin’ about ya.
All I can tell you is in 2000, at 44, I had a hip replacement. Drilling, sawing, hammering, you name the tool, they used it. BUT…the pain was gone! Word of advice is to FOLLOW YOUR PHYSICAL THERAPIST’S INSTRUCTIONS!! No matter how much it hurts. Keep us posted and good luck!
Hoping for the best for you Fred
*Rubs left shoulder*
When I do certain things mine kills me too. I should probably have it looked at.
So sorry to hear about your impending surgery. I’m praying you are in the 85 percent. Healing vibes being sent to AL.
PS. I read a blurb in the paper last week about that creepy amusement park guy who killed that woman on the Hawk. He got 4 years of probation for KILLING that woman. (I think, I’m high on painkillers from my own recent surgery and may have misread the blurb.) Anyhow, I didn’t know if you’d heard.
So sorry to hear about your surgery. I’ll be praying that it is 100% successful and that your recuperation time isn’t too stressful for you or Robyn. What do you mean that Robyn is going to duct tape your butt to a bedpan?? LOL Keep your chin up.
Hi Fred,
I’ve missed your entries for the past few weeks. I am really sorry to hear about your injury. I will send you good vibes that the surgery is a complete success!
Checking every day to see what is going on with you - and blam - you drop the bombshell. Hope that your surgery goes well and since you won’t be able to let us know how it goes ask Miz Robyn to keep us informed.
boy, doesn’t Robyn wiping your ass paint quite the picture? That one had me laughing out loud!
I am a physical therapist, and Katherine is absolutely right. Listen to yours. Or maybe you’ll have an occupational therapist. Whatever. Listen to her. Or him. Most of the time when people don’t get a good recovery following surgery, it’s because they didn’t follow through with the appropriate exercises and stretches and such. But of course, you seem mildly anal about that kind of stuff, so you’ll probably be okay.
Oh- and be VERY glad you will be knocked out during the surgery. I have scrubbed in on some orthopedic surgeries, and day-ummm. They are messy and involve lots of sawing, drillling, screws….I swear that I saw a sledgehammer and chisel used once on a guy’s knee. Looks more like home construction than surgery. But you should get good relief from your pain- sorry it’s been troubling you. Maybe you can get your orthopedic surgeon to loan you his tools of torture so you can go on over to see your friend the raft guide and do a little “surgery” of your own. Or maybe your surgeon will go along with you. I don’t care what anybody says- those guys are total sadists.
Good luck!!
Good luck with the surgery, my brother and mom both had shoulder surgery recently and it made a huge difference. You don’t have to wear the ice cuff? Too bad, that was a BIG relief for both of them and it brought a lot of swelling down. You should ask the surgeon about the cuff.
Major bummer, Fred. When I messed up my shoulder about a year and half ago .. doing some dumbbell presses, I had to give up nearly all my chest routines for nearly a year. It wasn’t bad enough for me to go to a doctor, but I know I’ll never be able to move the same amount of weight again … it can still feel a mild bit of pain when I really try to push myself. About the only chest routine I found I could do (after about six months) was the pec deck, and not allowing it to go all the way back so that my shoulders are not overextended. I’ve since been able to incorporate other exercises in, but I don’t try to max out on the weights like I used to. My sympathies are with you.
We’ll rebuild him, we’ll make him, better, faster, stronger….you won’t be the 6 million dollar man, but you’ll still be Fred….the toughest thing for you is going to hold still while your arm is healing…you are far to independent and it is going to drive you stir crazy….I can tell…hey, maybe you’ll type more in your journal….I loved it when you did all those crazy linking postings in the old journal….good luck Fred…I’m sure you can train your other hand to wipe your ass….;o)
Sorry to read about your pending shoulder surgery. I certainly empathize with you. In 1990 I went for arthrogram and dye was injected into my right shoulder. Ortho doc diagnosed impingement syndrome, and calcium deposit(s). I underwent acromioplasty surgery. For several years previous to surgery, I suffered with pain and limited range of motion. When cortisone injections and physical therapy stopped working I bit the bullet and had surgery. The physical rehab was worse than surgery. Rehab continued from June - November. Follow your physical therapists advice. Ortho surgeon said he couldn’t guarantee successful surgery…but it was very successful. Post-surgery my right shoulder is not as strong but I’m pain-free.
Unfortunately, recently I’ve been experiencing similar symptoms in left arm. Cortisone injection two weeks ago has alleviated most of the pain and range of motion is better. I will procrastinate as long as possible before having another surgery!!
If you want any additional info, email me at dneubart at cox dot net.
Will be thinking about you. Good luck!! Same to Robyn. :>)
Dude- you MUST post more. I am tired of bad news Fred. Come on- throw us a bone! I need HUMOR!!!
I dislocated my right shoulder playing volleyball and was in a sling for 12 weeks. It was my ass-wiping hand. It was a very awkward learning process but I still go left almost ten years later. I never did figure out how to put deodorant on my healthy arm’s pit though.
My Mom has had rotator cuff surgery 3 times now. It is ongoing, she has the arthritis thing too.
It is funny how often you hear of it the past few years when before I never did.
Is this the new “fad” surgery? I wonder because it keeps getting worse, never successful and she had NO injuries. (the best she could come up with was the huge filing cabinets in her office.)
So sorry you will be going through this Fred, I know it is not fun just from my Mom’s experience.
:(