I can pull my underwear up with two hands

Yeah, pulling your underwear up with two hands might not sound like a big deal.  It is.  After six weeks of pulling my underwear up with one hand, it's a thrill to easily slide them up and on.  I can nearly reach my left arm pit with my right hand (without propping the right hand up on something).  Progress is happening.  Slowly.  Very, very slowly.

This shoulder surgery has been the hardest thing I've ever done.  It may even be harder than being undiagnosed with adrenal insufficiency.  I have become virtually useless, short tempered, my mind doesn't work, each and everything I do takes twice as long, my driving is dangerous (stick shift and a useless right arm), constantly exhausted and on the verge of tears at all times.  I have been humbled.  I am so dependent upon others (STILL) that it's not even funny.  I nearly burst into tears if I'm in the grocery store and someone helps me empty my cart on to the belt.  Every night, I'm thankful to fall asleep and not have to need anything or wish I had help doing things.

Sleep is another matter.  Since I hurt myself on June 20th, I've rarely slept well.  Each and every time I turn or move, the shoulder lets me know and wakes me up.  I haven't slept on my right side in three months.  For the last six weeks, I have only been able to "sleep" on my back.  Ugh!  

Each day, I wake up hopeful that it will be better than the last.  I hope that I will accomplish something.  I wish, each and every day, that I had someone to put my hair in a pony tail so I look like less of a wreck. I am hoping that the circles under my eyes are not permanent.  Each day is getting incrementally better for the most part.  The pain has lessened.  I am allowed to be out of the sling.  I can use my hand and forearm more.  The right arm, even if it's out of the sling, does not work well.  It hangs limply by my side or is tightly held against my chest.  I can only walk about a half mile with it out of the sling before it gets very uncomfortable.  Sigh.  

Physical therapy starts Monday.  I will fall into another ring of Hell.  I have been told by several people, including an ortho friend,  that shoulder physical therapy is very painful.  I like opiates and all but, damn, I'm tired of them.

I wonder, if I had known how awful this time post surgery would be, would I have had the surgery?  Would I have opted for being slightly disabled?  Time will tell.  I hope that this arm works once I've regained strength and range of motion.  I really hope that all this mental and physical pain was worth it.  

Perhaps I need to show more gratitude?

I have been getting out and walking on the beautiful beach.

I've been spending time with my sweet bird, Keiko.

The view out the back of the house is amazing. I have really been enjoying it.

Sandhill Crane

Amazing view out the back windows

I'm also thankful for my husband for putting up with me.  Thanks to Jim S., Yogi and Molly for texting/Facebooking me every day with great stories of the things they are doing as well as support and encouragement when I need it most.  Thanks to Milissa, Donna, Allison and my mom for the late birthday presents.  I love getting something in the mailbox when I least expect it.  Thank you, Bonnie, for the cards.  Thank you, Heather, for the funnies that appear in my inbox with regularity.  Thanks to everyone who is sending good thoughts my way.

Three week post surgery update-weakness

Last week, I went to Tampa for my follow up.  Lots of talking ensued.  The doctor was impressed with my shoulder.  He gets paid the same if he puts in one anchor or six.  He put six in my shoulder.  Some people can take their sling off at four weeks, not me!  I have to wait six weeks.  Some people can start running at two months, not me.  I have to wait three because I had such impressive damage.

He told me I'm allowed to walk as much as I want.  I asked him what my limit was (anyone who is an ultrarunner knows this is a very reasonable question).  He couldn't come up with a number as no one has asked him that question before.  His biggest concern for me was that I walk on a treadmill inside so I don't grow fungus in my armpit.  At the moment, I'm not capable of walking.  It's too painful and my energy level will not permit it.  We are in the middle of moving and packing and cleaning one armed is sucking the life out of me.  Next week, I begin to walk long distances!

I do want to sneak in here that I am streaking still.  I didn't tell the doctor.  I'm at day 913 of my one mile a day running streak.  I am running carefully, nonbouncingly and minimally.  Mentally, it has saved me.

Speaking of mentally.  I'm doing crappy.  I wouldn't say I'm depressed but maybe I am by some definitions?  I am tired and frustrated.  I had such big plans for post surgery.  Play games, catch up on emails, read and hang out with friends.  None of that came to pass.  Mostly, I stared at the TV once I found a position that was not painful.  I was unable to focus or concentrate enough to finish anything at all except switch TV channels.  

A couple of my friends have gotten very, very mad at me for not being who they needed me to be and for me not doing what they needed me to do and especially for me not behaving the way THEY thought I should.  I am sorry.  I have nothing to give right now.  Nothing.  A few people have asked how I was doing and when I said, "Bad" they just carry on and tell me how great everything is with them.  The vast majority of people have been so kind and wonderful.  They have gone out of their way to cut me slack, make me laugh, offer me advice and listen to me bitch.  For that, I am eternally thankful.  It's not fun to be weak.  It's a lot easier accept the quality of weakness when I'm treated with kindness.

Back to packing and cleaning.  We are moving out of this house in Punta Gorda on Friday and to a new home in Vero Beach, Florida.  I will miss my friends here!  I will miss the birds!  Don't worry, my husband has hired muscles to move boxes and furniture. For once, I will not have to carry heavy shit!!!

Thanks again to the friends who have been so wonderful and accepting of me and my current situation.  Thanks to my husband for making dinner each night.

Failing at recovery, lost independence, pulling my head out of my ass, whining like a baby

On August 6th, I had surgery on my right shoulder.  I ended up having a lot of work done on it, more than anticipated.  Between the surgery "extras" and the doctor's philosophy, my right arm is strapped down to my side about twenty some hours a day for six weeks.  Although I was warned that this was a painful recovery, I didn't believe anyone's story would apply to me.  I thought I would be different.

I am very, very lucky.  My husband has good health insurance on me.  One of my best friends flew out for twelve days to take care of my husband, my animals and me.  I don't have a job so making other arrangements or worrying about the loss of my finances was not of concern to us.

Because I usually post positive things and people get the impression that I'm like the Energizer Bunny, I wanted to share this difficult part of recovery.  I AM ABSOLUTELY NOT LOOKING FOR SYMPATHY OR FOR ANYONE TO FEEL SORRY FOR ME IN ANY WAY.  I want to be sure that I post a balanced picture of my situation.

Seriously, I thought I was going to be able to read, play games and take care of basic things around the house.  How hard could it be?  As it turns out, hard.  Each morning for the last ten days, it's taken an hour to mentally prepare to take a shower.  Nancy was feeding me, my husband and my animals, she was keeping my house clean and walking the dog.  All I needed to do was take a freaking shower.  I went on and on here and then deleted it.  Try putting your hair in a ponytail with one hand.  That's really all I need to say.  A shower and getting dried and dressed after is an exercise in frustration and pain.

I hit the rocks hard the other day.  It was mental and physical.  Constant pain, extreme disappointment in wasting days, lack of exercise and fear of getting fat.  Between no privacy (I am sleeping in the TV room in the middle of the house), pain/pain meds, loss of independence (try driving a stick shift left handed) and no routine, I freaking lost it.  I had to put myself in time out to cry alone, I had nowhere to cry except out by the trash can.  Embarrassing. My crying and bad attitude caused my friend to become more frustrated with me than she already had been.  I was a total bitch.  I am sorry it happened.  I threw a fit and drove away and cried for hours in the car. I nearly blew my life to hell.  I considered going to a bar and having a drink.  I seriously considered it.  After a year of sobriety, probably not a good idea because I've never in my life been capable of having one drink.  Luckily, I threw such a baby fit that I left the house with no shoes.

The following day, I did almost nothing but cry and watch TV. On a positive note, I finished watching both seasons of Orange is the New Black.

Was this a hydrocortisone issue?  Probably.  No appetite, crying, sadness, being unreasonable, crying more.  Why can't I see this as it's happening?   Could I have handled it better?  Absolutely.  What can I do differently from here on out?

• Apologize to Nancy
• Take sodium throughout the day, I am cramping from the pain meds.  If you've had this experience, please let me know
• Split my hydrocortisone (the extra that i take on top of my regular dose) into 5 mg X 2 instead of 10 mg at once.  Take more HC on a daily basis until it's obvious that I DON'T need it.  Fucking steroid guilt is so useless and hurtful.  
• Get back to a regular schedule punctuated by resting and arm exercises
• Stop bitching and get back to walking, create a training plan for upcoming races.  I'm not allowed to run for three months.  I am allowed to power walk.  My running is nearly the same speed as my power walk.  Goals keep me moving and give me hope.
• Set goals the day before.  I am inherently lazy and will do nothing but bitch and moan if I don't have a list for the day
• Clean one room a day since cleaning the whole house is currently impossible and I have some issues about keeping the house clean

Want to hear more whining?  If not, stop.  If so, continue.

I've been described as compulsive or OCD.  I own it.  It's a coping skill.  My OCD revolves around cleaning, running and writing letters to my grandmother.  I can do none of these things right now and have a lot of anxiety.  Hmmmm, not a great situation.

My weight is a HUGE issue.  I know that it is for many people, especially those of us to take hydrocortisone.  For those that don't know, there is no way to measure whether you are on the right dose of hydrocortisone or not except by symptoms.  When one is sick or going through recovery from a surgery, how do you know how much hydrocortisone to take?  Enough to make your symptoms "normal" for your situation.  If you don't know what the "normal" reaction is to illness, how do you know how much hydrocortisone to take?  The answer is, you don't. Too much hydrocortisone will cause us to gain weight.  Couple that with an extreme decrease in exercise habits, what do you get?  A fat, sick person!  I really thought eating with my left hand only would slow my eating down but it didn't.

I weighed about 118 presurgery.  A couple of days after surgery, I weighed a whopping 129 due to the high dose of steroids, fluid retention (high dose of mineralocorticoids in the high dose of steroids caused me to retain fluids), IV fluids and having fluids pumped into my body to do the surgery.  Happily, I'm close to the weight I'd like to be at but it will be a constant battle.  I need to start exercising again.

That's enough pissing and moaning.  I want everyone to know that I'm not always a bitch on wheels.  sometimes, I'm just a plain old bitch.

Off to apologize.