“LOST MUSKET DIARY” Sunday April 19, 2015
Sunny and Sight Haze 79°F/26°C in Rancho Santa Margarita
Buongiorno,
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| Something New |
On Tuesday, I was
finally allowed to take my right arm out of its sling. At first it felt that my
newly-repaired right wing would simply fall off my shoulder onto the floor.
“Just let it dangle for a few minutes. Lean over the desk or counter top and
wiggle your hips so the arm moves,” Ronny advised me. “Do this about five or
six times a day. It’s still healing, so, go easy.” That was Tuesday. This
morning, I was finally able to put my shirt on by myself and use both hands to
pull up my shorts. Progress is Our Most
Important Product, went GE’s old motto. A
Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Single Step, said Mao Tse Tung as
he set out on The Long March. For me,
the road back began with a wiggling of the fingers on my right hand. Now, my
right arm is again helping my left arm to pull my pants up.
Ronnie Escudero is
the Physician’s Assistant to my orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Jeff Sodl. He did my
pre-op evaluation, assisted in the surgery, and checked me out two weeks after
the operation. I’ll see him again in about three weeks. That’s not to say that
the top guy hasn’t spent a lot of time with me, but I was unconscious for most
of it. One of my last recollections I had before the anesthesiologist put me
under was Dr. Sodl, Magic Marker in hand, asking me which shoulder he was
supposed to operate on. I confirmed that it was my RIGHT shoulder and, he began
to scribble on it. “There,” he exclaimed. “’X’ marks the spot with MY initials,
so that I know I’ll get it right.” Gratefully, I slipped into unconsciousness.
Sure enough. When I came to in the recovery room a few hours later, my right
arm was in a big sling brace, and everyone around me was talking at once. “Can
you wiggle your fingers?” someone asked. I wiggled my fingers. “Can you feel
this?” somebody else asked as they started poking my arm. I nodded in the
affirmative. Someone else pushed a button attached to a plastic tube into my
left hand. “Here’s your morphine drip,” said another voice. “If you feel any
pain, push the button.” Good to have it handy, but I have yet to experience
anything beyond a mild discomfort during the whole process.
Since, I’m not allowed
to drive for at least the next month, I’m spending a lot of time at home,
reading or writing for my blog or website, or yakking with friends via Skype or
chatting it up on Facebook. Quite a bit of TV time, too. Last weekend, I watched Harrison Ford chasing
“the one-armed man” in the re-make of “The Fugitive,” and startled my poodle
when I laughed out loud at the updated villain with his modern prosthetic arm,
which only served to confuse our hero, Dr. Kimball.
One item that
crossed my desktop this morning was an email from one of my high school
classmates, Judi Staib Harrison. (Our class held its 55th
Anniversary Reunion in 2013, if that gives you an idea of just how far back we
go together). It was another of Judi’s lists of what to expect when you get old,
specifically, Perks of reaching 60 or
being over 70 and heading towards 80: Now, I’m not going to burden you with the whole list, but, here are some that
I especially like:
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Ciao,
MikeBo
©Mike Botula 2015
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