I turned 50 last year. It didn't take long for things to begin to go snap, crackle, POP. My shoulder went POP. Third week of June to be exact. I was trying to start a pressure washer. I know - I know - not a very lady-like chore, but I wanted to wash the bricks at the back of our house so I asked my father in law if I could borrow his. I should have asked him to start the thing --- knowing what I know now ---ugh! I pulled the start cord and it pulled me. It was stronger. I didn't know pressure washers were SO strong. You either start them or they kill you! Seriously! I heard my shoulder pop as the cord resisted my measly attempt at starting the contraption. I grabbed it in pain and was immediately mad at myself because I knew damage had been done. I have babied, cuddled, soothed, injected and tried all sorts of medical and non-medical approaches to healing this injury. No go. So now its off to surgery. Tuesday to be exact. I am not looking forward to surgery but I am looking forward to getting to use my left arm again.
Left arms are important you know. You reach out your window to grab mail out of your mailbox with your left arm. You hold the blow dryer via the left arm as you style your hair. You instinctively open doors with your right and reach in with your left --- well.... I used too. Now I resist because even the simplest of motions leave me on my knees in pain. Oh - yeah - yelling too.
Tim has made up a song about my "broken wing". He sings it at the most inopportune times like right after a major stabbing pain. Its NOT funny. It's not even a good song. I have told him so and yet..... he keeps singing. I don't know which pain is worse the one in my shoulder or the one that sings! Ha.
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