I saw a surgeon this morning, who is independent of the public hospital system that has seen me these past two weeks.
That in itself seems a minor miracle, as I only spoke with a GP on Friday for a referral. Monday (yesterday) morning I then rang the surgeon’s rooms, wandering if it would be weeks or months before I was seen. The receptionist said he’d “review my file [the next day], and reply as to if and when he would see me”. But just one hour later she rang back and said “he’s had a look at the X-rays on your myhealth and he’d like to see you tomorrow at 11am”. She then rang around to find and book me a CT scan prior, so that I sat talking to the surgeon and reviewing the new scan late this morning, not 24 hours later.
There’s good news from that appointment and… well… other news.
The good news is that there is independent and confident affirmation of the “non-surgery” plan. And today’s surgeon really did express confidence, without a moment’s prevarication. Decisiveness alone set him well apart from the previous two week’s debacles. Furthermore he was not the least bit condescending, and explained things clearly and appropriately. That was a breath of fresh air. And building on the good explanations, I can now actually understand why surgery is not a real option. He also said he’d have said the same thing if he’d seen me the day of the accident, so the three weeks elapsed since then haven’t cost me treatment options. That’s all good – very good.
So to the “other news”.
What was described in week one as a “broken” and in week two as “smashed” was described today as “very, very, very, very, very smashed”. Yes – 5x “very”. I counted them. He said there are too many fragments of bone to fix, including many too small to get purchase for a screw or plate, and much of it was as fine as “dust” (his actual word). And the head of the humerus is compacted towards elbow, likely to have lost vascular supply, and is apparently fairly certain to “die”. I’m led to believe I’ll need a shoulder replacement in something like two years, which will be triggered when the pain of this dead shoulder gets unbearable. Subtlety doesn’t appear to be his strong suit; he (thankfully) just says it like it is.
It has occurred to me that there must have been quite some force to achieve the “five verys”. It then seems extraordinary that the accident “only” broke my humerus. That my legs, back, neck, head are all fine – wow; that is such a massive reason for thankfulness.
Apparently in time I should be able to get movement back so I’ll be able to raise my left arm “to the height of a low clothes line”, which judging by the corresponding show and tell was less than a full 90° up from hanging vertical. I think this clothes line expectation was pre shoulder replacement.
I’m to see him again in a month, meantime doing gentle exercise to push as much movement as I can into the arm without causing excessive pain. He affirmed my discovery from just last night that sleeping partially upright on lots of pillows was helpful for positioning the break to minimise pain and mitigate pins and needles from circulation issues. So I’m upping that anti and sleeping in a recliner chair tonight. Hopefully that will mean I’m not frequently woken tonight with pins and needles in a dead arm from lack of circulation. If this works, I’ll explore a more sustainable equivalent moving forward.
Meantime I’m trying to set a rhythm out and about that balances the income generating “project” with rest and time for recuperation. I’ve not booked in much for this week in Hobart, but my coffee schedule for next week in Melbourne is filling to near capacity. I’ll probably in time do a bit of the same in Hobart as well, just to cover all bases. A decade ago it was similar conversations that led to accidentally starting a now-thriving consulting practice (which subsequently had to be sold due to financial separation with my wife). I don’t really have much expectation of exactly what will come out of the coffees this time, but I think I have enough confidence that something worthwhile will emerge. Regardless it is all I know to do anyway.
I do feel like a ship with anchor cut loose, without a job, nuclear family or even a road trip to cover over the lack of those two. But I must keep reminding myself of so many rich blessings including incredible people around me – family of origin, friends, church, networks – so keen to help, and a quiet confidence I’ll find ways to contribute that will be fulfilling and financially viable. It is a time I can reinvent, and while that isn’t the context of my choosing, I can see (with gritted teeth and a deep breath) that there is good in it.
I know I need to practice thankfulness, and it is an excellent canvas on which to stretch faith and grow character. And I just can’t afford the alternatives, as falling in a heap now would have potentially permanent and probably devastating consequences. I can hear ringing in my ears the oft-repeated refrain to “be strong and courageous”, and know I simply must hold a positive posture and develop healthy rhythms through this next chapter. That doesn’t feel easy, but it is the only way forward. And – another point for “thankfulness practice” – although I’m feeling a bit flat, I am in the best mental state I could hope for given all this turmoil and flux.