I have been released from the sling that bound me.
My (hopefully) final x-ray was a few days ago and things look good.
Now comes the physical therapy for 3 weeks to work on getting back shoulder function and range of motion. Right now i can lift my left arm up to nearly shoulder height (about 75 degrees out of the possible 180).
After only 4 weeks of immobilization it is amazing how weak some of the muscles have become; this morning it felt like i had done a hard arm day at the gym with free weights when in fact i had only used the arm to do normal things like opening doors and getting dressed.
The soreness doesn't really bother me though, as it means i am another day closer to being better. In fact, i feel like after a week of motion exercises i could start strength training and be fine in 2 weeks.
My doctor disagrees.
He has me on THREE WEEKS of functionality therapy and then wants to see me to decide the next step.
sigh... three more weeks of not lifting anything heavier than a bottle of water... imagine how wussy my shoulder will be by then...
Oh well, at least i can wear clothes with zippers now.
You'd be surprised at just how happy that makes me.
My X-ray last week showed that the crack isn't getting worse (which no one even told me was an option). My awesome ortho doctor said that if next week's looks as good i might be able to start moving my arm a little and start rehabing it.
Honestly, i am not good at being infirmed. Though i have to admit that figuring out how to get things done without my left arm has become a game to me. There is a 10-step dance to get into the driver's seat properly belted. I do like the challenge.
But there are some things that are still too hard to be fun, like getting dressed for the lovely September weather we are having (tank tops are all i can get over my shoulder and i can't button/zip jeans with one hand) and doing something with my hair.
In fact, i have discovered that it is impossible to put in a ponytail with only one hand. Many folks have suggested various things like having my head upside down or laying on my bed with the hair hanging off the edge, all to no avail. I challenge you to give it a try and let me know if you can figure it out because i would totally give you a dollar.
sorry... i had to make the joke before anyone else did
Last week i was running in my apartment to answer the phone, fell on my hardwood floor and slid.
No, i didn't trip over something.
No, i didn't have on slippy socks.
I have no idea what happened.
One second i was filled with sleepy glee that i was going to talk to my BFF after a few days away and the next i was on the floor. Rea thinks glitter might somehow be responsible, but i refuse to believe that glitter would betray me like that.
I wish it was a better story, i really do.
The of my upper arm bone cracked right under the knobbily part.
Doesn't look that bad, right?
People, that is 4-6 weeks of having my arm immobilized.
Right at the start of the autumn festival season. Unamused.
Though when i saw the orthopedic surgeon on Tuesday (yes, it was 6 days before i saw the specialist because of the holiday weekend) he assured me If you have to break your shoulder, this is the way you want to do it because the crack isn't displayed or chipped so i don't need surgery.
This injury doesn't get casted, i just have to hold it still. For 4-6 weeks.
There is a sling to help, but my recovery hinges on my patience and my body's natural healing process.
Nothing can possibly go wrong with that plan.
Because i am well known for my forbearance, will power and stillness.
And my body never lets me down; it is a well honed machine. sigh... i'm screwed
I am finally out of the initial injury haze and seeing an orthopedic surgeon today.
Tonite or tomorrow i will post an update.
Thanks to everyone who has checked up on me, super thanks to Suzanne for getting me a new phone and extra special thanks to Jason and Kate who kept me in caffeine, left food while i was sleeping and didn't even blink when i declared, The dragons want a milkshake!
This month has been very nostalgic for me as i started college 25 years ago, which seems strange since i remember with absolute clarity going to St Pete Beach on the first night and watching the Perseid meteor shower hip deep in the Gulf of Mexico. There are two friends of mine that i met that day; i have now known Skip and Greg for over 25 years. It boggles my mind.
Even weirder is that today is a double birthday in my family: one of my nephews is 30 and one of my great-nieces is 9. I remember that boy being born; he was my first babysitting job. How am i even old enough to HAVE multiple great-nieces, much less one that is almost in double digits?
It seems crazy to me today.
This tree "lives" in the sunroom at a house i often sit:
Even I would have to admit that this plant is beyond saving and i keep flowers until every single petal and leaf has fallen off.
You are friendly, intelligent and have great taste in nannies. Let the tree go.
Let it go towards the light.
That tree is nothing but sad and painful to look at, which is a problem given that it right next to the tv the gets streaming Netflix. It's okay.
I'll get you a new tree.
A tree with branches and the ability to photosynthesize.
I enjoy working the land with my farmer BFF.
On the phone.
In the divine not-garden of my apartment.
Just 2 days ago i was helping her weed lima beans while painting my nails that stupid not-as-blue-as-advertised color.
Kudos to everyone who grows their own fruits and veggies and herbs or cultivates lovely flowers and bushes and bonsai. You people are amazing.
Growing things is not for me.
I vastly enjoyed a Chia Pet once, but that is the highlight of an otherwise bleak botanical history.
We already know that biting, stinging and/or blood-sucking insects are an issue for me.
Plus my ghostly pale to lobster red in 10 minutes or less complexion.
And the heat.
And the dirt.
And the back-breaking work.
Lordy, the WORK.
But tonight i stumbled upon yet another reason i shouldn't garden: the plants fight back, people!
The house i am currently sitting has an herb garden in the back and a lovely veggie patch on the side, both of which i have been faithfully watering, which is the one bit of gardening of which i am capable.
The garden is growing right along, bursting with produce.
The cherry tomatoes in particular are really producing lots of fruit; so much in fact, they were starting to look like clusters of grapes. I have been waiting for them to become red, but finally realized that these must be an orange variety as none turned red and the orange ones were so ripe they were falling off of the plants.
So i, as a good and industrious housesitter decided to pick them before they rotted.
It is all about the preparation, people.
I waited until the sun was below the houses, wore long pants and had on my wee mosquito fan.
I was safe to go into the garden.
The tomatoes were so plentiful and ripe that if i pulled one, ten more fell off the vine into vast squash vines that assured that the renegade tomatoes would never be found. A-ha! Holding my container under clumps of 'matoes meant that gravity did most of the work.
There is chicken wire around the patch. My people mcnugget-sized stature (totally saw that on a shirt that made me cackle with glee) was not aiding in the process of picking over the wire so i pulled it aside and entered the lion's den.
Man, there were a LOT of ripe wee tomatoes (too bad i don't really enjoy eating them) and even two impressive zucchini. I was just going about my merry picking way imaging how astounded and proud Rea would be when i told her i worked the land and how the home owners would be pleased as punch to come home to their own fresh harvest when i noticed it.
The backs of my hands were starting to itch a little.
Then they were starting to itch a lot.
Then, cheeseandcrackers, what is wrong with my hands?
I finished picking everything i could reach without wading into the vines themselves and ran into the house balancing the container full of 'matoes and giant zucchinis on my forearms.
Produce goes flying into one sink as i hit the water and start scrubbing my hands and wrists in the other (don't you love double sinks?) with the closely available Elmo Cherry Berry liquid soap.
Some chemical naturally occurring in the plants (as i know there are no pesticides, etc being used on this garden) was making me itch like mad and break out in crazy red patches. Damn you histamine!
Double scrubbing calmed my skin down enough for me to be able to rinse all the veggies and get them spread out on the counter to dry.
Then it was benadryl time both topically and internally.
Yes, my friends, i am actually allergic to working the land.
To paraphrase Dr. Ellie Sattler in Jurrasic Park (both the book and the movie): Plants are living organisms that will defend themselves, aggressively if need be.
I have never seen a dog chase its tail in real life.
I always assumed that it was one of those things used in cartoons and comics that doesn't actually happen.
This morning i was enlightened and delighted.
BTW, the title of this post comes from my all-time favorite Garfield comic strip. (i think somewhere i still have the original that i clipped out of the paper when it was first published in the early/mid-80s)
Sometimes we miss the most obvious things.
Often, when i upload pictures from my camera, it seems like the images don't look like my memories, especially the ones taken outside.
Well duh, Niki; you were wearing sunglasses when you took the pictures.
I realized that last week and decided to take a few shots though my lenses to capture what i was actually seeing.
Jewelry and paper goods for beauty and whimsy in everyday life:NikCo
Glimpse into the Commonplace Book
I am determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may find myself. For I have learned that the greater part of our misery or unhappiness is determined not by our circumstance but by our disposition.