October 6, 2019
“Shoulder First”
Do you have any idea how important your shoulder is?
Let me answer that for you. No, you don’t. – You will never know the true importance of
your shoulder until it quits working. It’s the same with socks. – Socks? Medicine for pain generally messes
up my brain which rhymes with train and sounds like what ran into my shoulder.
While
I’m not saying that Brad Meyer is responsible, I am confident that my injury
would not have occurred had Brad not agreed to play racquetball with me. We
were 15 minutes into the game when I lost my balance while trying to make a
rebound off of the Plexiglas back wall. There was not enough distance necessary
for me to regain my balance, so I allowed the wall to slow me to an immediate
stop.
The
first few seconds of an injury are the scariest for me. It’s when you’re the
only one around who realizes that you’ve really messed yourself up. Brad was
not all that concerned because he assumed I hit the wall with my head. While I
didn’t know it the time, my head had hit the wall, but my shoulder hurt too
much for me to notice.
I
was shocked that Brad didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to make fun of
me. Instead, he did all the right things you’re supposed to do when someone is
in a bad way. Asked if he could have my car. He started asking people in the
vicinity if they wanted to play racquetball. He did ask if he should call 911, but
Teri, the “Y” manager lady ran up and said she had already called.
A nicer, more responsible person,
you’re not likely to find than Teri. However, I hated that she called 911.
I
asked if she requested they not turn on their siren. She said it never came up.
Fortunately, no fireman came charging around the corner. Had I fallen at home, the
fire engine would’ve accompanied the ambulance. Realtors would’ve driven up and
given Kay their cards.
The
EMTs were efficient and polite. One of them was apparently a shoulder expert. After
assessing the situation, he told me that he didn’t detect a break or
dislocation. That I probably messed up some tendons.
I
refused to take a ride in the ambulance, because I knew Brad would be pleased
to take me to the emergency room. Instead, he grabbed my phone and asked Kay to
come pick me up. “Why would I do that?” she asked. “Oh, yeah,” he said, “he
hurt himself and needs to go to the emergency room. And I had nothing to do
with it.” (I actually didn’t hear the conversation, but I can’t help thinking that’s
what was said.)
If
I could get back all of the time I’ve spent waiting on stuff, I could increase
my lifespan by 40 years. I have stood
and sat through a bunch of waits. Having experienced several emergency room
visits of late, I’ve found that the emergency room is among the most awkward of
waits. Fortunately, I have discovered that conversation tends to speed the time
of a wait. Einstein determined that to my satisfaction in his “Time Acceleration
Theorem.”
While
it’s easy to assume that people don’t care to make small talk while waiting for
relief from pain or discomfort, it’s been my experience that talking can be
just what the doctor ordered. In the section of the room that Kay and I were seated,
I was obviously the one in the area who was suffering the most. I wasn’t crying
or moaning, but I’ve developed several silent signals that indicate “Man in
pain!”
I
managed to get the attention of a guy named Mike, who had just a few months ago
torn ligaments in his shoulder. So, right off, I received his empathy. He had
been walking his two Labrador Retrievers when they both took off in a dead run
after spotting another dog. Apparently, the tug on the leashes and the contact
with the ground, tore up some of his tendons. After listening to his story, I
got to explain how Brad managed to mess up my shoulder.
After
Mike, was called back, I started a conversation with this big guy named David. He
was so easy to talk to, which is weird because the only things we had in common
were injuries and food. I had no idea that Corkscrew BBQ had moved from The
Woodlands to Old Town Spring.
But,
forget food. David had injured more places on his body than I can even name. I
don’t know if it was his vivid descriptions of his injuries or the pain I was
feeling at the moment, but something caused me to tear up. What a sissy man. David tried to assure me
that my injury was worse than his shoulder injury. The doctor had to butterfly
his shoulder to get a better look. I think David was awake at the time. So,
yes, I’m sure I suffered more.
I
did eventually get called back for X-rays. It didn’t take five minutes. The following day, my doctor saw them and ordered
an MRI. The MRI is tomorrow which will determine whether or not I need surgery.
With the amount of pain I’m going through, I can’t imagine my shoulder ever
healing itself. After all, I met that wall at a falling run. People in the dressing rooms at the end of
the hall came running out at the sound of the crash.
“Nothing
to see here, people! Everybody back to your shower.” I think that’s what Brad
said. Ever since I met that Plexiglas wall, my mind has been acting up a bit.
Nothing serious. Not like the Corkscrew moving to Old Town Spring. -- Did I mention
that?
end
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