And that’s exactly what it is. A non-update. Status Quo. No change. Keep on keepin’ on. I met with the surgeon yesterday. Our conversation went like this.
Doc: “Everything looks great, you are right on track”.
Me: “Amazing! I brought a list of questions.”
Doc: “Ok, let’s hear them”
And then it went like this:
Me: “Can I…”
Me: “Ok. Could I then…”
Me: “Right. How about…”
And so it went for all 8 of my questions – which, let’s face it, were all asking in one way or another for a Get Out Of Jail Free Card. But the truth is that I have 3 weeks and 6 more days left in the sling (also known as the arm cooker as per Anja – and a truer name was never assigned, given its black polyester nature and the 32C nights).
And so onwards I go, perfecting my left hand-typing, mouse-maneuvering, veggie-chopping skills. But I still can’t tie my own shoes.
It’s been a little over 48 hours since I had surgery to fix the fracture in my shoulder which dated back to January. Although I was hoping to postpone it until the summer was over, my surgeon (and inner-smart person, when I decide to listen to her) felt sooner was better in order to prevent more damage. So I pouted, mentally kicked and screamed, squeezed in 2 road rides the day before the operation and drove to the hospital for a 7 am check-in. Highway 99 sure is pretty at 5:45am…
Fast-forward 7 hours, 4 screws, 2 surgeons and some fantastic nurses (who remembered me from knee surgery 6 months ago) at Squamish General and Jay was driving me home in a lovely fog. I know we discussed several things, none of which I can really remember. My kids were kind and happy to see me and I was happy to hit the couch.
These last few 48 hours haven’t been easy; discomfort morphs into pain if I’m not careful, I can’t sleep and the best part? It’s 34 degrees and my arm is pinned to my side, making me an itchy mess.
Jay has kindly taken the kids away for the weekend, leaving me a quiet house in which to properly rest (or, as the case may be, type blog posts with one hand). I know I’ll appreciate it more tomorrow but for now the house is eerily quiet and I’m wandering from place to place, a bit nervous about how I’m going to take care of myself as a one-armed bandit.
Herewith, a list of things I’ve discovered that I can and cannot do, one-handed.
Start the lawnmower.
Use a shovel.
Open a jar of pickles.
Make a decent sandwich.
Pick up kids.
Karate chop an apple with a kitchen knife (quite fun, actually).
Shimmy into clothing from the ground up.
Type with my left hand.
(Good god – I hope this list gets longer.)
Soon I will…
Swim. Run. Flail my arms with glee. Pick up my kids and squish them.
Bring on the patience potion, grasshopper!
This will be my last pity post. Here’s to being on the mend, having a patient and helpful partner, universal healthcare, sunny days and a good left arm to toast with.