1 week and 1 day later

Where do I start? It's been nearly a week since my last post, I am finally fairly coherent. I know, first time for everything, right? I just wanted to pen a brief update, because I still get a lot of, "How are you doing?"s everyday. First, let me say this...I am doing much better. Thank you so much for the prayers, the thoughts, the well wishes, the food, the flowers, the cards...for everything. You don't realize how special your friends really are until they step into the void and make a real difference. Thank you so much for picking me up when I needed it.

Now, on to the business at hand. I went to the doctor on Friday. He examined the incisions and called my recovery so far "a success." He again reiterated that he had done everything that he had hoped to do with my shoulder and that if I am diligent about my rehab, then I should be back to better than normal in 3 months or so. Awesome. Just what I wanted to hear. Then he took the stitches out, and told me that I could take showers or even go for a swim if I wanted, just not in the lake just yet. Really, he said that. He then broke the bad news to me...it's time to start easing off the pain meds. He reminded me that I cannot drive as long as I am taking them and hoped that would serve as some sort of incentive. Little did he know that I was made to be chauffeured around. But anyway, he wanted to cut back the dosage and the times per day, so it has begun. He told me to come back in a month for a follow up and then he told me to go back to work on the 24th. Begun indeed.

After leaving there, I headed over for another torture session. Oops. Again, I meant physical therapy. Again my arm was jerked all over creation in what she said was more range of motion stretches, but felt more like somebody try to break a pulley bone at Shealy's. (If you didn't understand that last reference then I am so, so sorry.) And then I was reminded to be doing my stretches. No prob, I said...I don't even have stitches any more. The most remarkable thing about this session was that my lovely bride came with me to learn how to do the range of motion stretches. AKA, home torture sessions. Now she has permission to make me cry. Life is so unfair. Just kidding, dear. I really appreciate you being willing to help me, because they really do help, even though it really hurts. But enough whining.

Sunday, I got up and went to church. This was my first trip out of the neighborhood that did not require me to show my blue cross blue shield card. I had full intentions of just worshipping like everyone else, but once I got there, I could not resist. I climbed up on stage and did my best to sing the songs, sling and all. To God be the glory, I did not fall over and as far as I know did not say anything silly in a drug induced stupor. And to the best of my recollection, the name of Jesus was proclaimed and magnified. Again, to God be the glory. After that, I was pretty much a vegetable for the rest of the day, although I did get to witness proof that Tiger Woods is, in fact, a human.

Yesterday, I had another pt session. My range of motion is really starting to return. At least the passive range of motion. My arm will do some pretty cool things when somebody else is moving it. I can't do it myself yet, but they tell me that will come. I spent the rest of the day in a good deal of pain. I'm pretty sure this is the result of my increased workload, coupled with my decreased medicinal assistance. Again, all part of the process, they tell me.

Today, I am pretty sore again, although I am kinda typing w/ both hands. If I sit my laptop just right in my lap, my right hand can reach some of the keys. We celebrate small victories around here. I've used a good bit more ice the last 2 days. Again I'm sure this has a lot to do with greater workload and lessened medication.

Well, that's all I've got. I'm still not driving, but I'm getting closer. My back is getting sore from sitting in my recliner all day and all night. I'm really looking forward to moving back to the bed. Maybe later in the week. Here's hope. And I miss my dog. Hank's at dog camp, at the neighbor's. I can't do the collar and leash competently yet, so our neighbors have graciously offered to let him stay over there when Davii's working.

I'm not sure I've said this out loud yet, but I wanted to add this. Praise God for all of this. Praise God that he can be glorified even through something like this. Praise God the surgery was a success. Praise God that I'm starting to get better. Praise God there is a light at the end of the tunnel. God is good and He is worthy, even when we don't feel so good.

That's all for now. Thanks for reading, and I'll be back soon.