Monday, November 30, 2009

Frozen green peas

They're probably the best of frozen vegetables.

And not only for eating. I'll be piling them on my shoulder starting this afternoon.

My Thanksgiving obsession was a great distraction from thinking about the shoulder surgery I'm scheduled to have this afternoon. I hate surgeries scheduled in the afternoon—more time to think about how much I want the bowl of cereal and cup of coffee that I can't have. But this doesn't sound bad as a surgery goes. I'm going to have arthroscopic surgery to repair a torn labrum. I was hit from behind by a skier going way too fast (I'm not known for picking my way down a mountain slowly) and completely out of control. I was thrown head-first down the mountain, with my right arm pulled back. Almost a year of rest, ice, Advil, physical therapy, and I've said "uncle." My surgeon says he can fix it. "Do it," I said.

I've had so much surgery that I'm not particularly nervous, but I'm really not looking forward to the time robbery. It's not like when you go to sleep and wake up and feel like some time has passed. You're laying there chatting with the nurses (if they ask me if I'm worried, I say "yes!" so they give me the really good drugs and I drift off thinking not everything about being a drug addict is so bad. . . .) and whammo "Cindy, Cindy—can you hear me? How are you feeling? Don't move anything!" There's no subconscious regrouping like there is in sleep. I'm never ready, and it doesn't feel right.

I'll have a long road of physical therapy ahead of me, but at least there's hope that someday I'll once again do a downward-facing dog and a decent plank, that I'll be able to put a ponytail smack in the middle of my head, that I'll regain range of movement and symmetry with the other side of my body.

In the meantime, it's peas. I passed on the $175 device that you strap on your shoulder and plug into the wall to circulate chilly water and make a noise I've been told is wonderful to fall asleep to. It sounds lovely, but insurance didn't cover a cent of it, and as I pointed out to my doctor "I have peas!"

Back soon.

8 comments:

J said...

I hope all goes well!

Anonymous said...

Good luck, and feel better soon!!

carolyn said...

best of luck. think snow and that you'll be able to get on the slopes--once it snows of course!

Purple Flowers said...

Good luck, and I hope everything works out for you!

Anonymous said...

The CyroCuff! At least I think that's what it is. I've heard it's amazing. I hope you're back on your...feet? Shoulder? In no time.

Kristin said...

Good luck! I hope it all goes well.

Marla said...

wishing you the best!

Kate said...

Sending good thoughts your way!