Put ice on it

I get cold very easily. I can't explain why my relative decided Michigan was a good place to live, but here I am. My dad was from the south, but my mom's family was here for at least one generation before her. Personally, I don't even like ice in my drinks. I like to be warm.

Every person who has seen my shoulder has said, "Put ice on it." I am starting to feel like a pina colada. Or a beer bottle before a frat party. Can't I try some nice, moist heat for a while? No. Put Ice On It. Sigh. I have had to show my colorful shoulder to so many people that I now wear tube tops rather often. It allows me to keep a modicum of modesty while displaying my colors.

Today was my third trip to PT. The bruising has settled enough so the PT didn't cringe. Either that, or she is getting used to it. The great map of China has faded quite a bit, finally. PT is wonderful. They massage my achy bicep, my shoulder, and spend some time trying to massage down the swelling under the incisions. It sort of feels like a little peanut under each incision. Then, they do passive range of motion. My ROM is very good for someone who had surgery 11 days ago, and almost as good as the average person already.

I can't do it all myself yet, though. I can wash my hair with both hands, although washing with my right hand is, as George Burns said about sex at age 90, sort of like trying to play pool with a rope. My arm is quite limp and weak. I can reach up to the counter at PT and sign myself in, which I wasn't able to do last week, at least. Too bad I can't style my hair yet, but I am hoping to be able to by the weekend.

After PT, I went to see the surgeon for follow up. After spending an hour reading in the waiting room, the nurse disrupted my book (Fallen Angel, Greg Iles) and called me back. She asked to see my shoulder, of course. She said it was "fairly normal looking for someone who has recently had surgery." The PA came in and shook my hand. He showed me the pictures, and explained one as, "This is where he (the doctor) shaved off some of the bone." I laughed.

Both the nurse and the PA looked at me funny. I said, "Is there ANYTHING that women don't have to shave?" The PA looked a little embarrassed, and the nurse laughed with me. I told the PA that the pictures looked like Jupiter to me. He said he would have the doctor see me, so I sat back down with my book and waited for him.

Eventually, the doctor came in. He asked if anyone had seen my shoulder, and I said yes. He didn't ask to see it, which made me smile. He shook my hand. Were they just trying to see if I could do it? He asked how I was doing, and I said I was doing great. He asked how many times I had been to PT and I said 3. He said come back in 8 weeks and see the PA.

That was rather anti-climactical, I think. I hope he is in contact with PT. I could have been lying, after all. Just because I dressed myself, put on makeup, carried a small tote bag with a book and things in it, plus my purse, and smiled, doesn't mean I really am OK, does it?

So I put on my jacket, scarf, and sunglasses, by myself, and drove myself home. Still smiling.

I tell you, that doctor and the PA should be on the cover of GQ.