Me
I had shoulder surgery.
I really didn’t believe it when they told me I’d torn my rotator cuff. Can one get messed up that easily, just by falling on the ice?
Guess you can. Hell, the doctor that cut me said I must have fallen violently, my shoulder was “all messed up.”
But I come from that school where if you just hang in there you can achieve the desired result. The waiting might be the hardest part, but those who do reap the rewards. Although not with rotator cuff tendons, they never grow back.
Surgeon number one told me I had to be cut within two weeks. Only one problem, he was going on the road for a month.
So he insisted I see surgeon number two, who I’d never heard of, whereas number one is world famous, he did Felice’s ACL, he’s done most of the star athletes you’re familiar with.
But surgeon number two dissuaded me. Said I might die on the operating table, that I was so old results might not be good. To do PT and come back in a month.
Shocking, I know.
So I went to surgeon number three, and I know this sounds like overkill, but if surgeon number one had been available I wouldn’t have even checked out anybody else, wouldn’t have even gotten a second opinion, he’s the man.
Surgeon number two erased my appointment from the calendar but ended up being able to see me anyway. He said the same thing as surgeon number two, to try PT, and that I could wait up to a year to do the surgery.
Hmm, a consensus. Sounds good. I’ll go with that. Except I’ve got massive biceps pain and I have trouble sleeping at night.
So I ended up keeping my appointment with surgeon number four. I rationalized it. Saying really, I’d only be seeing two surgeons of my choice. And Val Garay testified and Paterno had good results with him and his partner had reconstructed Dr. Dre’s arm, so what the hell.
But I felt might guilty, let me tell you, as I was sitting in the waiting room named “Skiing,” literally, this operation is a factory.
And the tech loaded the MRI. And then asked me if I had x-rays, which I did, shot back at Snowbird, but wouldn’t they be superfluous if I had an MRI? No. And if there weren’t all three views, we were gonna have to shoot more, which I found patently ridiculous, as I said, I felt guilty even being there.
Then I saw the fellow. I won’t talk to the fellows. Well, I used to not. But then I found at UCLA my hematologist would punch the clock with me if I didn’t tell my story first to the newbie.
So this thirty year old fellow looks at the film, demonstrates on a model, and tells me I need surgery.
My heart started to sink. My brain started to go numb. He wasn’t equivocal, but said we’d wait to see what surgeon number four had to say.
That I was totally messed up. You see the rotator cuff tendon everybody’s talking about? It’s got a rounded edge. Yes, I could see that on the MRI. That meant it had already been torn previously, not in this injury, because if it’s recent, the tendon is frayed, like this other one over here.
HUH?
That’s right, you’ve got TWO torn rotator cuff tendons.
And what about my biceps?
He said he could fix that, but might have to tack it down at another location.
Hmm…
Surgeon number two said if the biceps tendon was torn more than 30% it was history, he’d just tie it down and forget about it, that never sounded good to me.
And surgeon number three said number two was really an “open shoulder” guy, and everybody said this would be an arthroscopic procedure.
So forget number two, he’s out.
And number three didn’t even see the other torn tendon, so he’s gone too.
But number one?? So much time had passed that maybe he’d be able to do it.
So I leaned upon him.
No, the world famous guy leaned upon him.
But surgeon number one had cold feet. Talked about my leukemia drug, he didn’t want to do it.
So I rolled the dice with surgeon number four.
As for doing it at all… Surgeon number four said what number one did… I wouldn’t be able to ski, unless I did it one-armed. And despite my age, he thought I had thirty years left, why live them with so little functionality?
So, 5/31 was the day.
Oh, I had to go for a pre-op with my internist, who was very helpful, told me to view it as an athletic event, to clear the decks and get in shape.
And I had to go to a pain specialist, because supposedly this operation is horrifically painful but they’d come up with a protocol that would reduce it so much…
And then finally a pre-op with the man himself.
And then the day arrived.
Well, not before I freaked out over the long weekend. You see there was a MAJOR drug interaction between the pain pill and my cancer pill. And I don’t want to DIE!
My internist really came through, he calmed me down, walked me through, said it would be cool, by Tuesday morning I was ready.
To do it at the surgery center, my sleep apnea did not require the operation to be done at St. John’s.
And I thought of requesting the anesthesiologist who’d interviewed me about the sleep apnea, thank god I did not, because I got the bigwig, who’d done Arnold and Reagan, who said he was gonna just put tubes down my nose, whereas the other guy was all about the throat and complications.
I lived.
I know you’re laughing. But they told me to bring my CPAP machine in case I didn’t wake up in recovery. But I did not need it.
But I did need pain medication. I was at my limit. My shoulder was HURTING!
And it took about 45 mins. for the pills to kick in, and then they scooted me out of there. To Felice’s house, where I sat in the lift chair I’d rented, everybody said you had to sleep in a recliner, and looked at the world through a haze.
But I didn’t feel that bad. The doctor called me. Friends. The business bigwig who was trying to push surgeon number one to do it.
And then the next day I crashed. Had to take the oxycodone just to muddle through. And that pill messes you up for about sixteen hours. You’re functional after about six, but you’re zoned out, and I hate that feeling.
But there was no way I could sleep.
You see you have to lie on your back. With your arm in a sling. And I’m a stomach sleeper and I haven’t gotten a good night of z’s in ten days.
But starting a day or two ago, my senses returned.
After stopping the oxycodone.
You see it’s heavily addictive. They said to employ it. But I had such a hard time getting off Ativan after years of use. I didn’t want to use the pain pills at all, but I had to. Especially to sleep.
But now it was Saturday night and I couldn’t. Was I in enough pain to rationalize the dope? Not quite. But there ensued one of the worst nights of my life. I did not swallow a pill, but I did see my entire adult life pass through my brain in between hours of staring straight into darkness, awake. I’ve got a pretty strong constitution. But even I succumbed to the Ativan. No wonder we’ve got a major drug problem. Purdue Pharma’s a pusher and the hipsters won’t negate drugs, because substances are cool, don’t you know? Isn’t it interesting everybody’s grieving publicly over Prince’s demise, but when they say it’s due to opiates they’re mum. This is a major problem people.
So now I can be sling-free inside the house. Except at night, when I’ve got to wear it, and outside, when I have to don it too.
But I can’t move my elbow from my side.
And I’m so anxious about messing up. As it is, the doctor said I had soft bones and the Gleevec would impede healing a bit and I don’t want to go through this again.
P.S. The surgeon called the procedure “entertaining.” As in not run of the mill. He made everything anatomically correct, and utilized a bovine patch to help keep the biceps in place and aid healing.
P.P.S. I have to do pendulum and pulley exercises one minute each twenty times a day. That’s right, TWENTY! I keep a record. I’m a dot the “i” and cross the “t” kind of guy.
P.P.P.S. I see the doctor in three weeks. If everything goes according to plan, I can start physical therapy then.
P.P.P.P.S. I should be able to ski next season. But I shouldn’t expect a perfect result. This doc would normally say 90%, but since there were three procedures you multiply, like in statistics in college he said, which I did not take, but I’ll roll along, so we’re really shooting for about a 70% result. And I believe it. I’ve only had one operation that completely achieved its goal.
P.P.P.P.P.S. I missed being on the Howard Stern WrapUp show the day of Steve Miller. I had to pass on being on CNN. I had to cancel going to Electric Daisy and speaking at the Insomniac conference…and those are just the biggies.
P.P.P.P.P.P. As I once read, you can’t be too scared to get healthy. Go to the doctor. Get a second opinion. And know that you do the best you can, but perfection is unattainable.