One of these things is not like the other
So a couple days ago I came home on my lunch hour to let the dog out and get something to eat. I ate my Panera salad while my border collie gazed at me hopefully (for what, lettuce?) and went out to my car to get something, I don’t even remember what. Unfortunately the combination of my wet boots (platforms) and the wood floor (shiny) resulted in me taking a slow motion but violent tumble down my hallway and dislocating my shoulder. Again.
Have you ever fallen as an adult? It is terrifying. It’s slow motion. You feel heavier than normal. You don’t know where your limbs are going next.
I knew immediately that the shoulder was dislocated and instead of thinking of pain I went into planning mode – how I would have to call my office, somehow get to the hospital and spend the next several hours in the ER, then go home with a sling. The nauseating dislocation feeling hit me pretty fast and I started sweating and dry heaving while I dialed my sister. “I need you to come get me and take me to the hospital,” I said. “Okay,” she said, and hung up, unquestioning. You see, this isn’t her first rodeo either. It has fallen upon her to take me to the emergency room for a number of freak accidents (including two separate dishwashing incidents) so she probably has a Go Bag ready for occasions just like this.
I spent an impossibly long time in the waiting area of the ER, after having bragged to my sister about how I’ve NEVER waited to be seen. The thing about a shoulder dislocation is that they don’t so much hurt as make you sick because the entire weight of your arm is hanging on muscles it shouldn’t be hanging on. It’s awful. They seemed in no hurry to see me, as they escorted seemingly comfortable folks back to the doctors before my turn. I got a warm blank and a wheel chair but remained pitiful while we people-watched. After a couple hours my pain “contractions” as Amy called them were coming closer together. (Put two moms in a situation describing pain and we put it in labor terms.) She observed that every time I said something sarcastic I would have a spasm, so I pretty much had to keep my mouth shut entirely. Only sarcasm was coming out at that point.
Sitting there, I suddenly remembered that I was literally covered with bruises due to a fascia roller I’ve been using. My sister looked at me quizzically and I told her to lift up my hem which revealed a lovely blue patchwork of bruising along my thighs. She burst into laughter as we thought about the ‘splainin’ I’d have to do if they had to cut my clothes off. Luckily I was wearing vintage with a zipper in the back, so I was spared.
The last time I dislocated my shoulder, they had to cut off my shirt, gave me IV anti-nausea and anti-anxiety meds and a delightful twilight drug that erased all memory of the experience. A team of about seven medical professionals swarmed around me to perform a violent relocation of my arm into the socket. This time however, the doc convinced me that I only needed a Valium and he would manually raise my arm until it popped back in. This plan sounded horrible and I explained that I rather liked the idea that all the drugs last time had softened the memory to haziness, again, like childbirth. I was dubious, but eager to get that sucker popped back into its rightful socket so I relented. I have to say, it was the least painful few minutes of my entire stay and I was so grateful to be realigned that I could have kissed him.
Fast forward to today – I’ve been off work for two days and have only driven the kids to school and back. My sister has carted me around town on errands and my shoulder is immobilized in a sling. The pain meds make me sleepy and in fact I just started feeling pain today. I discovered some nice bruises on my knees from hitting the floor so I guess this month’s hemlines will be a little more modest than usual. My aunt reminded me that Lucille Ball wore flats but you will have to pry the stilettos out of my cold, dislocated hands.
I have one painting to finish before Christmas and I’m going to make it. However, it would make me feel so much better if I had a few more in the pipeline. SO – I’m offering half off gift certificates ordered this week. Maybe it’s the pain meds but selling a few more paintings would really put me in the Christmas spirit (and you’d get a smokin’ deal.) Email me at email@example.com if you want to order.
Ho ho ho!