Best laid plans…I know that some of you out there keep telling me that life’s good and we should be thankful for our blessings, but, I’m here to remind everyone that life can sometimes be a spiteful bitch.
I am now trying to write my musings sans the use of my left hand (and no, this is not some kind of Freudian experiment). Yesterday, work was going well and it was a fairly light day. I took time at lunch for my daily run. Since the weather was beautiful (clear & low 60’s) and I had the time. In preparation for upcoming my half marathon, I thought I would follow Terri’s and Abby’s lead and push my run up a bit by going for the longer route (6+ miles). Was making good time and heading back to the building when I tripped over a separation in the sidewalk and did my best comedic impression of a faceplant. Tired to recover but had too much forward momentum and went down hard. My knee and hands took most of the brunt of the fall, but I musta rolled hard to the left because my left shoulder hurt like hell. After getting my breath back and surveying the damage I limped back to the locker room to see if a hot shower would help. It was while I was trying to take off my shirt that I noticed that something was amiss with my left shoulder. The top of the ball had shifted 3-4 inches forward and I could not lift my arm above my waist without help (can you spell dislocated?). Took one look at it and thought aw s%&$^%t, this wasn’t in my plans. Next thought I had was if this would keep me from running half marathon in 3 weeks.
After weighing my options, I put my running clothes back on and went upstairs to tell my people I was going to the ER (was bleeding and had no strength to put my business clothes back on). I decided to drive back home (35 minutes) and go to our local hospital ER on our side of town. Was not in much pain, but there was no way that the shoulder was going to heal itself. Figuring for a long afternoon/night, I picked up momma and we hit the ER around 3 pm. They did the normal triage stuff and the parked us in a waiting room for a doctor. The ER was packed and I didn’t get to see a doc until 7:30 pm. He confirmed it was dislocated (gee, thanks doc. I sorta figured it out on my own). He first tried (key word being tried) to numb me up with lidocane and pop the ball back in the socket (I asked for scotch and a bullet). After trying to rip my arm off, he decided to knock me out and have several male nurses arm wrestle it back into place. I will admit, while I did not feel it, but they worked me over like a WWE bout. I seem to recall being face down at one point with the ortho guy pulling on my arm from under the table like it was a tug-o-war. The finally decided that surgery was the only way it was going back. So, there I was at 0300 (3:00 am, nothing to eat since breakfast, and trying to find comfortable spot to sit/lie in) on my way to surgery. Procedure took very little time (15 minutes I am told) and recovery was about an hour. Whatever they gave me to knock me out was really wild. I kept dreaming about little ponies in surgical masks. Came out of recovery with my arm in a sling (but shoulder back where it is supposed to be) and some more vicodin. Right now I am laying low at home now trying to figure my next move and get some rest.
The lesson learned here: RUNNING can kill you! Stop Now before you hurt others!
We had planned to leave for a small New Year’s rally with the folks and my brother, but there is no way I can handle a trailer at this stage. Now I am worried if I can still make the half marathon…
I am now trying to write my musings sans the use of my left hand (and no, this is not some kind of Freudian experiment). Yesterday, work was going well and it was a fairly light day. I took time at lunch for my daily run. Since the weather was beautiful (clear & low 60’s) and I had the time. In preparation for upcoming my half marathon, I thought I would follow Terri’s and Abby’s lead and push my run up a bit by going for the longer route (6+ miles). Was making good time and heading back to the building when I tripped over a separation in the sidewalk and did my best comedic impression of a faceplant. Tired to recover but had too much forward momentum and went down hard. My knee and hands took most of the brunt of the fall, but I musta rolled hard to the left because my left shoulder hurt like hell. After getting my breath back and surveying the damage I limped back to the locker room to see if a hot shower would help. It was while I was trying to take off my shirt that I noticed that something was amiss with my left shoulder. The top of the ball had shifted 3-4 inches forward and I could not lift my arm above my waist without help (can you spell dislocated?). Took one look at it and thought aw s%&$^%t, this wasn’t in my plans. Next thought I had was if this would keep me from running half marathon in 3 weeks.
After weighing my options, I put my running clothes back on and went upstairs to tell my people I was going to the ER (was bleeding and had no strength to put my business clothes back on). I decided to drive back home (35 minutes) and go to our local hospital ER on our side of town. Was not in much pain, but there was no way that the shoulder was going to heal itself. Figuring for a long afternoon/night, I picked up momma and we hit the ER around 3 pm. They did the normal triage stuff and the parked us in a waiting room for a doctor. The ER was packed and I didn’t get to see a doc until 7:30 pm. He confirmed it was dislocated (gee, thanks doc. I sorta figured it out on my own). He first tried (key word being tried) to numb me up with lidocane and pop the ball back in the socket (I asked for scotch and a bullet). After trying to rip my arm off, he decided to knock me out and have several male nurses arm wrestle it back into place. I will admit, while I did not feel it, but they worked me over like a WWE bout. I seem to recall being face down at one point with the ortho guy pulling on my arm from under the table like it was a tug-o-war. The finally decided that surgery was the only way it was going back. So, there I was at 0300 (3:00 am, nothing to eat since breakfast, and trying to find comfortable spot to sit/lie in) on my way to surgery. Procedure took very little time (15 minutes I am told) and recovery was about an hour. Whatever they gave me to knock me out was really wild. I kept dreaming about little ponies in surgical masks. Came out of recovery with my arm in a sling (but shoulder back where it is supposed to be) and some more vicodin. Right now I am laying low at home now trying to figure my next move and get some rest.
The lesson learned here: RUNNING can kill you! Stop Now before you hurt others!
We had planned to leave for a small New Year’s rally with the folks and my brother, but there is no way I can handle a trailer at this stage. Now I am worried if I can still make the half marathon…
(And, yes, I am grateful that it wasn't worse)
3 comments:
Oh man. That's awful! I won't try to argue with you about life being a bitch at times. (In fact, I'll share a secret. I write those Friday posts in an effort to convince myself more than anyone that the "ups" outweigh the "downs." I'm not always successful, but it helps most of the time.)
I'm sorry the injury sidetracked your New Years plans and hope you're feeling better soon.
Thanks.
Still sore and feel like I've been beat up, but I am doing much better than Monday. It is justa minor pain learning how to type one-handed.
Omigosh! You must've been really moving out!
Sorry this happened. Hope it heals fast!
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