That dang humerus hasn’t made me laugh yet. Fucker.
Tomorrow marks two weeks since I fell. I saw a doc today at the orthopedic practice, although he is a sports medicine doctor. I already have one of those, so I didn’t understand why I needed to go there. My regular guy finally called me and explained that even though the other dude is not an orthopedic surgeon, he’s affiliated with the ortho mothership, and it would be better for them to monitor this whole thing.
It took a lot to get that explanation, but I get it now.
The new guy said no surgery. Yay! The sling they gave me at the ER didn’t fit me properly, so I got a new one from them. He said this was not related to osteoporosis. Just a freak accident. That made me feel better. Not that freak accidents are fun and games, but it does not appear this is the beginning of long, slow decline.
In fact, he said this might have been way worse had I not been physically fit. I felt like all those exercises and weightlifting didn’t do a damn thing to save me, but he said quite the contrary.
That said, it’s not like I will be golfing anytime soon. I’m OK with it as long as this horrible phase eventually comes to an end.
So, the illustration. I am mixed-handed, meaning I write with my left hand but do everything else with my right. I now have to use my left hand for all of it, if you get my drift. That stupid little tool didn’t work. Let’s just say I solved the problem with latex gloves and Dude Wipes.
To borrow from another song, Bob Dylan this time, Everything is Broken. Since our accidents, a long-serving laundry room light went dark, the microwave stopped spinning, the oven won’t stop heating until it hits 5,000 degrees and shuts itself off before melting the planet, the battery in Dale’s car died, the DISH signal can’t connect with the hopper (meaning no TV) and we had to get a new food processor.
All of it fixed or in the process of being fixed, but damn. But then I think about my sister’s friend who tried to sooth a boo-boo with dry ice, and I’m grateful it wasn’t worse.
Dale and I have had some moments. I have two operating legs, so he thinks I am Wonder Woman. We have had some lively discussions about my current limitations. I said I’m healing from a fracture just like him, but I’m doing it backward and in high heels.
I still have to make all the calls and argue with the home health people. They have been trying to say he can only have PT once a week, and I had to use every bit of strength left to rectify that. I finally got to Oz this week, and I believe we are back to twice a week. He is doing fantastic, by the way.
He wants to cook more, but it’s still hard for both of us. After wheeling a spatchcocked chicken around the kitchen on his overbed table (the kind like you see in hospitals) I said this is too much. I cannot do this.
Now we are keeping it simple. Freezer food, homemade burritos, sandwiches. We are trying Indian takeout tonight.
All in all, we are doing OK. Now if ya’ll could do something about Trump, that would be great.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION TO THIS MATTER.
This column reads like the definition of Murphy’s Law: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.
I can understand how Dale misses being able to cook. I miss your descriptions of what he used to cook!
I hope things start to change direction.
Definitely Murphy’s Law. The electrician was here yesterday fixing the oven, and just by coincidence, our regional water system had a failure, so no water all day.
Donna,
I’m sorry that you’re going through all this. I have a pinched nerve in my jaw which makes eating even yogurt difficult. But I’m not feeling sorry for myself because your situation seems a lot worse. I hope you both get better soon. And there’s nothing I can do about the Trump situation. Now that would make us all feel a lot better!
Donna
You know it’s bad when eating yogurt hurts. Geez. I’m sorry you are going through that.
Just keep up the good fight Ginger. I’m interested in the movie rights.
Thanks. This is hard.
Oh, good Lord! When it rains it pours!
Keep those creative solutions comin’.
We have discovered some creative ways to get things done. Of course, I had to lower my expectations, but whatever.
Have you and Dale checked your horoscopes lately? Something in the Universe seems hell bent on seeing how much you can endure. (No, I don’t follow horoscopes, just grasping at straws here.)
Still, what a relief to know that you didn’t break your arm. Some muscles, especially tendons, are really painful when hurt and have a slower recovery period than a strain. You seem to be holding (grudgingly?) to your sense of humor and I appreciate your creativity in solving problems.
Here’s hoping that you and Dale are finished being tested and that everything smoothes out for both of you in February. As for Trump, it’s mostly hopeless but I’m encouraged every time a Democrat gets elected in a Republican stronghold during these special elections. I hope that it’s a portent for things to come.
Oops, somehow I didn’t think you had broken your arm, just hurt it badly. They didn’t think that you need a cast at least? Heal quickly!
It is definitely broken but no cast. I have to wear the sling for another month. It’s OK during the day but quite uncomfortable at night.
That’s quite the load you’re carrying there Donna, so I’m especially sorry you’re having to resort to ready meals & take-outs. I hope the Indian was good, and that there are many other emporiums who’ll deliver tasty food to keep up both your physical and emotional strength.
I actually made huevos rancheros last night. Dale had to do some of it for me. It was easier to make than it was to eat. I can’t cut my food. But I got it down.
Oh & when I read about your troubles with having to use “the wrong hand” for those tricky personal issues, I literally shuddered and thought “oh no please, don’t let me hurt my right hand/arm as well as my back or I’ll never be able to cope. Especially as this place doesn’t have a walk-in shower and I’d have to clamber over the side of the bath. I’d probably pay to visit the local swimming baths every day just to get a shower. Then, when I was congratulating myself on working out a solution, I worried that the amount of mental effort I put into thinking about it might be taken for some sort of cockeyed manifestation…
It’s quite a task.
So sorry for the situation you’re both in. What a series of bad luck! Hang in there Donna. At least the weather is nice where you’re at.
The weather is lovely!
Donna, you always crack me up. The image of the toilet tool and caption “Worthless” is priceless! Gosh, I’m so sorry for your challenging times. At least there are some bright spots because Dale has the urge to cook even with his handy roller table. And you still have your spunk as you square away those folks who want to limit his PT sessions. We are all challenged with the current administration’s brokenness, and indeed they are all worthless. Maybe I will keep that image you posted and put Trump’s name on the image.
I love the idea of Trump’s name on the bottom buddy or whatever they call it.
I’m sorry about all your troubles, and it’s good you can still find humor in it. I’d be in the middle of a breakdown if I had to deal with all of that. I can’t believe you’re doing any cooking at all. Hang in there and be glad you don’t need surgery.
I do find myself crying from time to time. I am sooooooo happy no surgery. Been there, done that.
Why oh why does the universe love to kick you when you’re down? A few years ago under different circumstances, we experienced it and, like you, I made a list of all the things that went wrong (or broke) at the time. It was extensive and soul crushing. I love that you’ve kept your sense of humor and hope you’re both back to normal soon.
As for your other concern, the only things I can think of would require jail time so I will have to decline.