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My Pitching Career Might Be Over




Since July I have been feeling a twinge and mild soreness in my arm.  It has grown more annoying with time, and most recently has affected my sleep, and, given certain movements, the pain has been like what I imagine childbirth to be.  When I twist or move the arm a certain way pain erupts but doesn't go away when I move out of the offending position, it stays and burns for another minute or two.  If I'm playing with Norah, the poor thing, she just waits until "Papa" is done moaning and writhing, then we resume whatever raucous activity we are engaged.

I'm not sure what caused the injury.  I don't recall falling off a ladder (wink, wink),  pitching a baseball 98 miles per hour or any swinging trapeze moves which would have certainly caused a strain.  I have nothing else to blame it on so I guess those thumb lifts I gave Norah was the culprit.  

 It has been particularly galling because, well, I've never had anything wrong with me.  I had a benign cyst removed from my back in the early 80's for mostly cosmetic reasons and besides that and those two vasectomies, never been under the knife, and never spent a night in a hospital.  I am a marvel of modern medicine,  good genes and sheer dumb luck.  Even when I fell off the roof of the two-story house on Grove Street I just looked to see if anyone witnessed it and hobbled back in the house. Last month I went to see my Doc for a sinus infection and to an ENT guy to replace the tube that fell out of my ear.  I'm pretty well fed up with physical problems right now.  I'm starting to feel like a little old woman with appointments all month just so she can see her friends. 


Yep, that's me.  
My primary Physician, Dr. Fatfingers,  suspected rotator cuff inflammation and sent me to an orthopedic specialist.  Some place called All-Florida Orthopaedic Center.  I don't like places that get all fancy with the spelling.  Is it an "a"  or is it an "e", it can't be both.   It's a rather big place and the waiting room reminded me of The Walking Dead.  Everyone here seemingly had some kind of obvious external problem.  Arms in casts, legs in casts, people in wheel chairs and limbs in slings.  Goodness, I felt like limping to the reception desk just to fit in.   

So today (yesterday) I go and try a little humor on Danielle who was asking me questions about my symptoms and taking my blood pressure.  She seemed humorless to my witticisms as she couldn't stop gazing at her computer screen.  Then Heather comes from the X-Ray room and she, too, seems a bit bereft of my charms this Monday morning in paradise.  At least she grunted with one of my jokes which is more than Danielle did.  Finally, in walks a dapper older gent, a Dr. Gnage, who keeps looking at my embroidered shirt logo as I'm explaining my pain.  I am wearing a pretty new Iowa Wesleyan College polo shirt just in case my hick humor denotes some uneducated rube is in their midst.  Must not have worked.  I guess he thought anyone can buy college clothes.  He, too, seemed to be more intent on the computer and x-ray rather than be an audience for my stand-up routine.  

 I decided to get serious and told him it has hurt for about 4-5 months because I thought it would go away.  He looked up and said, "Well, I guess it didn't, did it?"  Joke time was over.  The good news is it is not torn, but seemingly inflamed.  I'm not sure how something can be inflamed for 5 months, but then, I'm just a guy who throws on a college-logoed shirt for credibility.     

Anyway, I received a rather uncomfortable cortisone shot in the shoulder with instructions to return on the 16th and answer my phone when the therapy department calls.  Apparently it will be a long recuperation according to Dr. Fatfingers, Jeff Sutor of BFE Wataga who had a torn rotator, and my dapper little guy, Dr. Unpronounceable by BFE tongues.
WHAT I CAN'T DO:

  • Headstands
  • Put my wallet in my rear right pocket
  • Flagellate my back (I can flagellate elsewhere, however)
  • Easily loop my belt on the right side
  • Reach for anything in the upper kitchen cabinets with my right hand
  • I can still drink a beer with you but I can't flip it underhand behind my back when finished
  • Put Norah in or out of the car seat
  • Comb the right side of my head
  • Take an oath

The notice of instructions from the doctor's office said after the shot my arm may be sore for the next two days.  That's why I'm writing this at 2:36 am.  I'm hurting and it may be a long night.  The Doc asked if I needed any pain pills but I told him I was tough.  Bad choice.  I look forward to the progress of my recuperation and will inform you if anything dramatic happens.  That reminds me, I saw a sign at a church on my way back to Shawshank that read, "Pray Until Something Happens".  Weird, huh?  I won't pray, but I will try to milk avoiding carseat activities for Norah since no one likes to do it. And oh, after I'm done here, I'm going to start writing some new material for the 16th.  Maybe even pick up a Harvard alumni shirt, too.



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