My right arm had been giving me trouble for a while ... a couple of years, in fact. I had to quit serving overhand at my weekly volleyball games with friends because it caused too much pain. That helped for a while, but eventually I went in to see a specialist because I'd wake up in the night with shoulder pain and even tasks like chopping vegetables were affected.
The doctor diagnosed bursitis with impingement. He said I could (1) go to physical therapy, (2) get a cortisone shot or (3) have surgery to fix the problem. I thought it made the most sense to start with the least invasive treatment, so I started going to physical therapy. I went for months. At first, I saw improvement, but over time I kept wondering when the problem was going to be solved. Eventually I brought it up to the PT who suggested I go back to the specialist.
This time, the orthopedic surgeon said that the bursitis symptoms may have been masking another problem. He suspected that I had torn my labrum and ordered an MRI.
You'd think someone would have informed us how a shoulder MRI works, but they didn't. So we were confused when they led me to the X-ray room at EIRMC. They patiently explained that they have to inject dye into the shoulder before the MRI to see where the problem lies. After the X-ray-guided injection, I was led into a room and told to take the Valium the doctor had given me prior to the MRI.
(Valium side note: When the doctor ordered the MRI, he asked if I had any questions. I asked if my head would have to go in the machine. He told I would go in head first. I asked for medication and he delivered. I'm not claustrophobic when it comes to most things, but when I thought I'd have to go completely inside the machine when I was 15 for my knee, I panicked. And when we go into the Wind Cave, I opt not to even look at the part where you'd have to army crawl through a tiny opening.)
I've never had Valium before; it felt like a weighted blanket was covering my brain. I closed my eyes and sang Primary songs in my head for the duration of the procedure, and everything turned out well.
I got my MRI results back a short time later. The doctor said, "Your labrum isn't torn." I thought, "Hey, that's great!" Then he said, "Your rotator cuff is torn." I thought, "Wait. Isn't that worse?"
He recommended I have surgery within the next month or two. Despite having shoulder pain for years, I didn't expect my life to be turned on its head this quickly. But we scheduled surgery for November 2--after our cruise and in time to be out of the sling by Christmas.
The day of the surgery, we wished the girls goodbye before they left for school and Seth drove me to EIRMC. I was awake long enough to be rolled in to the ER and transfer myself onto the table. I woke up in recovery, and it didn't take long for my shoulder to start to hurt. I consented to a nerve block, which was a good decision. I couldn't feel anything in my right arm for hours, but I made sure to start taking my medication before it wore off completely. The prescription-strength stuff was welcome, but it didn't hold a candle to the block. The first few days post-op were spent taking pills every four hours and learning how to stack pillows in the recliner we borrowed from Grandma Hendricks so I could sleep comfortably.
The first time I left the house was the following Tuesday (the surgery had been on a Thursday) to go to a stake Relief Society presidency meeting at the church. That was enough of an outing for one day. The next day I went to Fairview to conduct a student council meeting. That was enough of an outing for that day. Gradually I started being a normal person again by going to church, shopping and even subbing with my right arm in a sling.
Some things I've learned from this experience:
- No matter how high-tech and comfy your sling is, it will absolutely drive you crazy sometimes. Sometimes it's the abduction pillow that seems to squeeze your ribs. Sometimes it's the back of the sling that seems to dig into your elbow with all your arm's weight resting on it while you're sleeping. Sometimes it's the strap that goes behind your neck that seems to dig into the side of your neck. And sometimes you won't even notice the sling is there at all.
- Doing things lefthanded or onehanded is hard but not impossible. And sometimes you can use your right hand even though it's in the sling. As long as it can reach what you're working on (like typing this blog post), it's handy.
- You'd think having one good hand would be enough. I quickly learned that a lot of tasks require two hands, and you can't always do your two-handed work at sling level. Seth (and occasionally Ana) had to put my hair in a pony tail or a clip whenever I wanted it up.
- Don't think you can save yourself time by keeping the recliner in the reclined position when you get up in the night. That may result in the recliner tipping backwards when you go to lie back down, and you may fall and hit the back of your scapula on the desk. And you may cry because it hurts so badly.
- A wedge pillow in bed is more comfortable than a recliner.
- When you finally get the sling off after six weeks, you will still be incredibly gimpy-armed. I tried to insert the key into the van's ignition at the orthopedic surgeon's office, and my right arm wouldn't reach. I'm still driving onehanded for the time being.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)