I am very pleased today. The good Doctor scheduled surgery on my shoulder for late May. If I could have scheduled it for this afternoon, I would have, but nothing's open til late May. Better late than never y'all.
The way this all went down follows a well-established pattern with me...by the time I can get in with a specialist like this, they take one look at my MRI/X-ray and say "you need to take the next available appointment". I am not sure why things go this way (it is most certainly the hard way of doing things), but this is the way things seem to go.
In short, the doc spent 5 minutes with me and said my shoulder (in this case the ball and socket) are totally fuct and I need to go directly onto the slab. I think the normal way of doing this is to work your way up to surgery after all else fails. In my case I must either I go downhill quickly, or I just don't know the magic words that can make doctors understand just how bad I feel and that it ain't just in my head.
As it turns out, my left shoulder is "unstable", I have bone on bone contact, fluid leaking down my inner-bicep from a cyst or something, and the anchors which held my arm together from my last surgery may be catching. That stuff - this being only what the MRI shows, though at my last surgery the doc found more when he went in - is a more than good explanation for why I have been feeling like shit for the last good while. The burning fingertips, nerve pain down the arm, and the muscles tight to the point of being brittle all fit within what the slides show as well. What I was sensing corresponds to something actually wrong with me. The bad news is the good news.
I knew something was very very wrong, and in other ways, this all kinda follows a long-established pattern for me. I have had things totally become FUBAR, then had the surgery, and yet, I still end up prostrate on the floor, hoping for hot Armageddon Time to end it all. Perhaps that will be the case again. I am hoping hoping hoping that it ain't so. Even though I know better, I am gonna allow myself the "what if" fantasies..."What if I end up feeling better?!?" "What if I can finally throw my "I'm Back To Feeling Reasonably Normal" Ding Dong Dance?" Oohwee!
No matter what, I can already celebrate the fact that I appear to have had this all caught before the cartilage in the ball-n-socket is warn away completely, which if it hadn't been caught, would guarantee me arthritis in there for the balance of my life. I consider that a dodged bullet. Perhaps I can finally get this shit squared away and dodge some other nasty bullets which surely await me if I can't. I don't think I will ever feel good - I have too much nerve damage for that - however I might be able to get out of feeling sick as hell every damn day.
I gotta be honest, I am 100% wiped-out and exhausted right now. I am utterly debilitated and completely worn when I get home. I have already seen the bulk of my 30s pissed away in this manner - the prime of my life - and if I were somehow to recover even halfway, I think I could still salvage the remainder of the decade. That would mean something to me. If you pray, please keep me in mind. I actually really need it. This is gonna be a long couple of months for me. The 6 weeks before the surgery will likely be no different than the last 6. The surgery - though likely one that will allow me to sleep in my own bed that night - isn't tiny by any measure (I dread going completely under), and could end up re-breaking my bank (not as likely as the last one.) I also am feeling like a total coward about spending the summer in physical therapy. Then, after that comes the waiting to see if I actually get better.
For all this bellyaching, I am quite happy, as I said. I am happy that I am not crazy, the doctor sees things that explain why I am feeling horrible, and there is reason to believe I might get some help. My pain clinician says this doctor is literally "A Miracle Worker", and I could stand to have a little of that fall my way. I am glad I have decent health insurance (I am still haunted by a meeting I had with an immigrant cab driver in Atlantic City years ago - he clearly was in a bad way but had no insurance, a family, and low dough...I realize how lucky I am.) I have a good support network of chums who go out of their way to check in on me, drop me encouraging notes, and offer to help out (and indeed do help out.) For all I bitch about, I realize the advantages I do have. I can't feel selfish anymore for wanting those advantages to pay out, but that ain't the same as being an ingrate - at least I hope not.
So with that, I will try to keep things positive. The Olympic Torch will be running by my office TWICE on Wednesday - literally under my office window. I expect to have much to report on that. I may even bring in my Tibetan Prayer Rug to hang in my window in support of those poor people being treated as subhuman by the Chinese (Always!), though I suspect my employer might not thrill to that opportunity as much as I do! We shall see.
No dull moments ahead, and that is finally as I would have it.
Posted by rudayday at April 07, 2008 11:15 PM