I’m a one-armed blogger this week…two weeks out of a shoulder replacement. It was a reverse job, but I’m unsure what that means. The doc explained it twice, and I tried to listen twice, but it went right over my head. As soon as he mentioned chisels, saws, screws, nuts, and bolts, I turned him off and wondered if he doubled as a carpenter during the shoulder replacement off-season. All those tools can cut, chop, or smash me, and I’ve spent a considerable amount of time in my life avoiding being hurt.
The oh-so-happy Nurse Ratchet pretended I was a pin cushion for a time until I asked for a valium and the next thing I knew, I was floating in la-la land with a sling on my shoulder, begging Cowboy Bob for water.
At the ten-day mark, the doc re-explained what a reverse shoulder replacement was. This time I tuned in better, but when he showed me the X-ray with a bolt nearly as big as a railroad spike, I tuned him out again. I still don’t know how it works but I’m on the mend, no sling, no drugs (I don’t count Tylenol as a drug, because it seems to me it is as necessary as coffee, wine, and Vitamin D).
I’ve written about my many lists before, always aiming toward the completion of my daily goals, but it wasn’t until waking up in the recovery room that I realized the uselessness of my goals. I have been wasting my time. On the white board in BIG red letters, there was a sign that read: Gail’s Daily Goals: Breathe. Pee. Drink. It was written in BIG letters, so I couldn’t miss it. It didn’t have anything like walk 10,000 steps, win the Pulitzer Prize, speak six languages, or lose thirty pounds, all those things I strive to do daily. I guess when you are seventy-six, those things don’t matter and all we have to do is breathe, pee, and drink.
The breathing business isn’t that hard, I rarely think about it, and I don’t have any breathing issues, although when I took a CPR class years ago and tried to revive the resuscitation doll, the instructor kindly said, “You are better than nothing, but not much.” Okay, that works. The story of my life. The peeing thing, well…I drink a lot of water, so no problem there. The drinking goal…they didn’t specify, so I guess they accept any liquid, even red fruity ones.
I’m nearly back to normal, no complaints. Ice and Tylenol are my very best friends. I’ve caught up on Netflix, watched a bunch of baseball (Go Cardinals), and now all I have to do it breathe, pee, and drink. I think I can do this!
If you enjoy wrinkly bits, please share. All my books and blogs are on my website gailcushman.com And books are on sale through the end of this month. Code word is wrinkles.
