In Tashkent I began experiencing pain in my left elbow It worsened and spread to my shoulder. I didn't seek any medical care there because our Embassy was limited in equipment. Locally many 'doctors' got their licenses through bribery. So I waited until we got home to have my arm checked out. A long awaited MRI showed a torn rotator cuff and superior labral tear. I opted for surgery.
That was July 9th. My left arm was in a sling for a week and had to remain absolutely passive.
Poor Douglas.
It wasn't too big a deal the first two days because I was not allowed to shower or bathe. My shoulder was covered with a huge dressing to provide not only coverage, but padding. I looked like my left side was geared up for football.
What made me laugh was that underneath all that gauze lurked three little bandaids. We've made so many medical advances that we are not sent home from surgery with a bandaid. After the dressing was removed things got a little sticky. Really sticky. The gum from the bandages adhered to my arm seemingly permanently. I asked the Physician's Assistant if she would clean up my arm a bit as I had to walk out in public after I left the office and my arm looked very, very bad. She said that she had nothing with which to clean it.
What? No alcohol in a doctor's office? No, she assured me. I could look around if I wanted, she gestured. Not necessary, I replied. I was just surprised that a doctor's office would have no alcohol, that's all. I turned to Doug, who was with me, doesn't it seem strange to you that a doctor's office would have no alcohol? (Note: when you want backup, sometimes your husband is not your best choice.) Well, he began, it depends on what sort of doctor's office . . . never mind, I interrupted. To finish this teensy saga, when I was taken away for an x-ray in this same office not one minute later, I asked what the staff did in the event of, say, a paper cut. Make an emergency pharmacy run or just suck it? I got a blank look from the x-ray technician. I explained that I was told there is no alcohol in the office. Who told you that, she wanted to know. I told her. I also got several alcohol soaked cotton patches which sweet Douglas used to attempt to clean my arm up a bit. They didn't work.
Now, the timing of all this was somewhat good and somewhat bad. The surgery was on the 9th. Doug's German exam was to be on the 15th. He was surprised that week to learn that they had moved up his exam by four days without bothering to notify him. I was a physical mess; Doug was a mental mess. I needed a lot of help with everyday things like bathing and dressing. I could let my left arm move in specific ways as long as it remained passive. I could bend forward letting my arms dangle while I swayed and let them pendulum this way and that. So I decided to try and undress myself. Remember the sticky goo from the dressing that we couldn't get off? Imagine me dangling over while I tried to take off a shirt one-handed that was adhered to the back of my shoulder. Frustrating. I had to be careful with my right arm as the elbow is already showing signs of tendonitis which is what started this whole thing with my left arm. So I had to call Doug away from his important studies to undress and dress me. You want to know what got the goo off my skin? Old fashioned sweat. I went to the gym and rode the bike for a hour. When I got home, it rubbed right off.
Poor Douglas.
The good news was it turned out that my rotator cuff was intact. It was a bone spur that was causing so much pain and limited motion - that and the labral tear. There was a bit of good news there, too. My superior labrum was shredded which means he couldn't repair it. That sounds bad, and I thought it was until it was explained to me that a repair would have meant weeks more immobility and physical therapy. Since it was 'just' shredded, he could clean up the shredded ends like you would trim off fraying fabric. I should have complete recovery.
Part of my therapy included the use of a cold therapy machine up to which I was hooked for two and a half long hours daily.
Fast forward to the date I'm actually publishing this account. I have regained much range of motion. I still have minor pain when trying to stretch, but I can stretch. Otherwise, my arm simply won't move and must be manipulated into place. I have begun strength building exercises which cause some pain, but, again, it's minor. There is one exercise that really hurts. I use a cloth held in my right hand (of the 'good' arm) trailed over my right shoulder. My left hand reaches behind and grasps it while my right arm pulls my left arm up my back. Therapists always ask, "How much does it hurt, on a scale from one to ten?" One therapist described one as taking a nap and ten as getting your arm caught in a combine and it's being pulled off. This new exercise is around eight and a half.
Oh, more good news. Douglas passed his German exam. He's now taking a consular course to train to be a consular officer in Munich. It's almost countdown time. We have tickets for Munich and one more visit home. Bad news. Our long awaited four-bedroom apartment in Munich has turned into a two bedroom apartment. We will be unable to house any guests unfortunately, though guests are still very welcome.
In the meantime, don't take scratching your back for granted. It's the little things, you know . . .
