It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time ... The Explanation

One of my 'biggest' gripes or complaints about the human race is the fact that many people ... entirely too many I think, do not take responsibility for their actions. It's always 'the other guy... the economy ... the government .... the traffic' ... you name it ... "it was THEIR fault!" I take full responsibility for climbing up on that play set and going head first down that tube slide! But let me explain a contributing factor, please or mitigating circumstances that lead me to go down that slide. I went to live with my mother and step-dad at age nine years. My step-dad was only 31 years old when he married my mother. I've told this story many times before, but I repeat it only to clarify that my mother raised FOUR children (they had a daughter when I was 11.) When they got married my mother was 3 years older than Pops chronically .... uhhhh, mentally ... well, I'm not sure about that one. Pops was/is a 'big kid' ... my friends thought it was so cool, he rode motorcycles, he built model planes, he designed unique costumes for Halloween ... he got out in the street and played ball with the whole neighborhood. He built stilts for my brother and taught us how to walk on them. He teased, he loved to embarrassed his family, he skipped 'backwards' when walking at the mall. Everything was a joke, I repeat everything!!! Even to this day, people remark that he has such a great attitude ... he is 85 and likes to say "if you aren't living on the edge, you're taking up space" Friends and family admire that at the age of 80 he took a month long motorcycle trip to Alaska, with only one other guy friend. The fact was, though, that he left my mother for one month (she was living in an Alzheimer's center) and was very well aware that he was gone.

We went to the lake almost every Friday evening during the summer and returned home late Sunday afternoons. he taught me how to water ski on one ski, to jump the ramp and ride a disc ... I did not know how to swim, though. He drove fast, he took chances.When I asked how much something was it was almost always answered with "a dollar two ninety-eight" or how far something was produced "straight-up and a mile east" The most hurtful off hand retort (and I know in my heart he didn't intend for it to hurt me) was given after I ran in the room and said "I have an idea" (wanting to take a drive ... anything to keep my mother from drinking on the weekend) Pops looked up from the paper and said "Keep it ... you may never have another one!" He was a 'pal' to my brother and me ... he was not a role model.

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time ... Part 3

At this point in my trilogy, I've had two lengthy (and painful!) rotator cuff surgeries, one in April and the second in May, just four weeks after the first. I was doing great with my recovery until 10 weeks post-op I hear 'fabric ripping' ... my shoulder fabric to be specific! It is now mid-August. My original surgeon (of both surgeries) has told me "no more surgery!" I am frustrated and the shoulder is hurting; I have a specialist recommended to me by my primary physician. I see my original surgeon discussing the history and my options. He has changed his mind; recommends that I have surgery a THIRD time.

I had lost confidence in my surgeon!

Well DUH!!!! I would like to point out at this time that these surgeries, hospitalizations, medications, appliances (slings, etc.) and physical therapy had not been without costs !!! I won't even get into
the pain, inability to dress myself at first ... which reminds me to stop here and acknowledge my sweet, patient, loving, husband; he did everything for me ... I'm serious! The Duck carefully helped me shower/dried my back/shoulder and became quite adept at putting my bra on (on ME, silly) ... although he remarked that doing so really went against his nature. When I returned each time to have the staples removed, the nurses were amazed that I was wearing a bra! Apparently, most women don't have such help. I managed to brush my own teeth... using my left hand. The brushing of hair was trickier and forget the blow dryer. My biggest complaint (other than not being able to sleep on my side as I am accustomed to doing) was putting on make-up, specifically my eyebrows! I have written instructions that I carry with me at all times stating if I am involved in a fatal accident or do not wake up one morning, whoever finds me agrees to draw on my eyebrows ... that and make sure the oven is cleaned. You see, I have no eyebrows ... "And no, Pops, it's not because I plucked them out!" I don't have to shave either ... but I digress ... The Duck was/is my Hero ... I am blessed!!

Getting back to surgeries, though ... I declined the 'offer' of the original surgeon. I saw the specialist, complete with my records (and photos) He explained what he would do, but only after getting a second MRI. He was surprised that I didn't have 'anchors' the first two times ... to us lay people that means 'screws'. He explained the damage he sees on the MRI and his patented procedure using 'anchors' and arthroscopic surgery.

While waiting in the exam room The Duck and I look at autographed University of Texas
photos on the wall. There is Mack Brown in a photo with the team after they won the 2005-2006 Big 12 Championship and the National Championship. The office looked out on the practice field of the UT Longhorns. We laugh that if you scratched this doctor, he would bleed burnt orange!

I decide not to tell him that I attended the University of Oklahoma and that we are both from Oklahoma ... at least until after the surgery.

With only the confidence of someone who knows what they are talking about, he lays out his 'pain' management. It was now October ... I could not lift my right arm, the pain was almost constant; I opt to have the third surgery. On October 15, 2008 we drive into the 'city' where the third rotator cuff surgery is performed ... and a torn bicep
(which did not show up on either MRI) is repaired at the same time. There are four anchors/screws embedded in my right shoulder.

I am sent home a few hours later with an ICE machine ... literally ... well, not an ice machine that you would find at a motel, but it truly was a lifesaver. The Duck would add ice cubes to the container and the coils would deliver ice cold water that continually surrounded my shoulder. Perhaps it was the 'white noise' of the machine, but I found it quite comforting. I used the machine for two weeks, at which time I returned to the new surgeon to have my staples removed. (with my bra on !!)

I would see this doctor every 3-4 weeks over several months. A very strict physical therapy plan was accomplished between the doctor and a therapist in my area. The timing of all of this is a blur to me now ... suffice to say that I celebrated the one year anniversary of the last surgery a few weeks ago. I still have trouble blow drying my hair, I will never be able to play tennis or bowl .... of course I couldn't before the surgeries, either! I can lift my arm more than shoulder high now and more importantly it does not hurt!!! I do not put off the metal detectors at the airport, but I must confess I still have nightmares about slides!!!

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time - Part 2

Okay, let's recap our 'adventure' thus far .... Grandma goes down a tube slide ... head first! Grandma tears the rotator cuff in her right shoulder (you guessed it ... I'm right-handed, too!) Surgery in April 2008, intractable pain when 'block' wears off ... sling, physical therapy, star patient. Then 'uh-oh' ... shoulder aching, redness, fever. Four weeks to the date after first surgery, second surgery to repair rotator cuff - hospital this time, morphine, IV antibiotics, conservative approach to physical therapy ... 10 weeks post-op, everything looking good!

I started walking each morning, pumping my arms as I listened to my favorite music on my I-pod. I wore the sling, I did my physical therapy, I was so very careful ... and I was under the watchful eye of The Duck ... always reminding me to be careful, "don't use the arm, how does the shoulder feel? you're using your arm too much."

And so one August morning I returned home, after walking two miles in our typical humid and hot summer weather in Texas. I did not have to wear the sling any longer ... so using both of my thumbs, I pulled down the damp exercise pants to take them off. It was then that I heard a sound much like 'fabric ripping' but no real pain in my shoulder, actually it was kinda cold, then it felt like an electrical current ran down my arm.

I saw the surgeon again immediately. He did not think that I had "ruptured" the tendon, but there was inflammation. I was to resume physical therapy and take anti-inflammatory drugs. One week later as I leaned down to find a dish in the bottom of the cabinets, I rested my weight on my right arm. I felt a sharp pain in the upper region of the arm and my arm literally gave way.

When I saw the surgeon again he told me "Short of an earthquake, I will not do surgery on your shoulder again."

I was told another MRI could not differentiate from a tear and the surgical incisions. The therapist took measurements of my range of motion and my strength following the second surgery and again after the 'ripping' incident. I had loss significant degrees of both.

I continued to lose range of motion, the arm/shoulder ached, I continued physical therapy and finally I saw my primary physician who recommended an orthopedic surgeon who only worked on shoulders! "Just for grins" (and insurance purposes) I decided to see the original surgeon again, too. There were no earthquakes, but we'd had a hurricane! That's the only reason I can think of as he was very willing to do surgery again. He told us basically it would be done the same way as the first two times. Hmmmm ... what's wrong with this picture???

There is one more thrilling chapter of this trilogy ... there IS "light at the end of the tunnel" ... and it's not an on-coming freight train!!!

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time ..... Part One

The Rotator Cuff Trilogy ... and then some
I've been away from the computer for several weeks ... more mentally than physically ... I've been busy with ... LIFE!! I have, however, written the first 'chapter' of this saga. For your reading enjoyment, may I present .... It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time ....

Several blog friends have asked what I was referring to when I said that I had had THREE surgeries (on the same shoulder) last year. I just celebrated the one year anniversary last week of the third and final surgery on my rotator cuff. I never thought about rotator cuffs ... unfortunately now I could tell you everything you would ever want to know about rotator cuffs!

But first, let me start the tale with how I managed to tear my rotator cuff ... it truly seemed like a good idea at the time ... I wanted to impress a two-year-old (at that time) granddaughter... not that I needed to impress her, but .....

I decided to slide down one of those enclosed tube slides ... Suffice to say, the slide was very tall. I guess the metal bars on each of the levels should have been a warning ... but when your granddaughter thinks you can do anything ...

The first time down was a 'piece of cake' ...

the hard part was climbing up the platform and over the bars to get to the top.

It WAS fun (the first time down, sitting on my fanny and sliding that is) soooo, I made the decision (you see, I AM taking responsibility for my actions!) I decided to go down this tall (4 or 5 levels) slide head first! I actually crawled up into the tube, put my arms out in front and proceed to 'push off.'
In a matter of a nanosecond, I realized this was a huge mistake! I wanted out of that tube!! I'm not normally claustrophobic, but for some reason the tube seemed to be closing in on me. I put my hands out on the sides of the tube; I did the same thing with my feet. My intention was to stop myself ... or at the very least slow down! I instead did a somersault in the cramped tube ... and for several seconds I was STUCK! A vision of an EMS team cutting me out of the tube leaped into my head ... and in about the same time it took to think of being humiliated "Jaws of Life used to free Grandma 'trapped' inside tube slide" I completed the somersault, now I was lying on my back with my feet leading my way down the slide.

When I became 'unstuck' (picture one's derriere directly above one's head, feet dangling in mid-air) my right ear was uncomfortably close to my right shoulder. I heard (and felt!) something
in my shoulder tear.

Your rotator cuff is a combination of four muscles and many tendons that allow your arm to rotate. This grouping covers the head of the upper arm bone. The rotator cuff muscles hold the bone in place and rotate the arm.
The rotator cuff can be torn from a single traumatic injury. Most tears, however, are the result of overuse of these muscles and tendons over a period of years. People who are especially at risk for overuse are those who engage in repetitive overhead motions. These include participants in sports such as baseball, tennis, weight lifting, and rowing.
Rotator cuff tears are most common in people who are over the age of 40. Younger people tend to have rotator cuff tears following acute trauma or repetitive overhead work or sports activity. I was/am on the 'other side' of age 60 ... I am not athletic, I'm not a 'wuss' ... but this thing hurt like nothing I've ever experienced ... at least not at that time!!!
So after a few days of my primary physician's office hassling the insurance company I finally got to have the 'definitive' MRI.


There was a huge tear in the rotator cuff I was told. I was referred to an orthopedic surgeon in my area. As I knew this doctor (having had some other surgery on my feet done by him) I set up an appointment to see what my options were. SURGERY !!!!




And so on a sunny April morning, I had 'out-patient' surgery on my right shoulder at the local hospital. But not before the nincompoop anesthesiologist waltzed into my room five minutes before I was to be taken back to the surgical suite and announced "this surgery hurts more than a knee or hip replacement!" and then proceeded to show me 'his' scar!! He did mention that I would have a 'block' given to me prior to the surgery because "if you woke up in recovery without a block used, you would think they were still cutting on you!" his name was stricken from my Christmas card list!

I awoke in the recovery room very talky and in absolutely no pain. The doctor had already talked to my husband, I could go home as soon as 'other things' were working ... besides my mouth! I ate jello and drank a Dr Pepper ... I finally was able to ... uh, go! So then we attempted to get my 'moo-moo' dress over the sling.






I was told to use ice for the swelling and my husband filled the prescription for pain medication on the way home. All was great ... I was home, I was propped up on the sofa with an ice pack to my shoulder. I was numb ... until exactly 12 hours to the minute after the surgery. I was literally out of my head with PAIN ... my husband quickly gave me two of the pain pills. At least that was what the bottle said they were for ... nothing, the pain was unbelievable. I could not sit still, I was pacing like a trapped animal, I wailed, I cried, I prayed ... I'm not sure if I was asking to be struck dead ... I just knew I couldn't take much more. My frantic husband was on the phone with the doctor. Yes, I had taken the pills, No they didn't help, No, I hadn't taken them earlier while the block was still working. We had not been told to take them BEFORE I needed them! And to make matters worse the choice of medication was rather pitiful in the pain prevention department. It was like taking a sugar pill .... Stronger drugs were ordered. Finally after what seemed an eternity, I was able to drift off to sleep ... sitting upright in a lounge chair. It was a very long night. Over the next few days, I started feeling so much better ... friends brought food and DVDs for my entertainment. Only a week following surgery, I started physical therapy ... I was their 'star' patient ... able to move my arm, use the arm bike, everything was going great.

About three weeks following surgery, my husband took me over to visit our granddaughter ... for the record I DID NOT use my right arm, I DID NOT lift her or anything else for that matter. The second night there my arm started hurting again ... it felt like it had prior to surgery. This time the incision was red and hot! After a quick check with the surgeon, it was deemed that I would need more surgery. Four weeks to the very day, I had the second rotator cuff surgery; this time it was at a surgical center and I was admitted to the hospital for two days following the surgery with an IV morphine drip! HALLELUJAH!!!

The surgeon told my husband that all the sutures were 'gone', there was "frothy yellow liquid every where" (sorry, TMI, uh???) But even stranger, the cultures grew absolutely nothing ... I did not start physical therapy as soon as before and when I did it was very passive. I had had the sling on my right arm now for six weeks ... I could now sleep (on my back!) in bed with my husband, but the arm had to be elevated on a soft pillow. Since I had to share my bed with this bulky sling, I dubbed it Tom ... as in Tom Selleck ( I am nothing if not a realist ... Tom Cruise is young enough to be my son!!!) The Duck, Tom and I got along quite fine, I was improving, gaining my strength back, so I started walking each morning. Neighbors waved at the 'one-armed grandma with the I-pod.' The therapist was pleased with my progress as well ... I was ten weeks post-op ... looking good!!!
To be continued ....