It is the 26th day since my shoulder surgery; the days passed slowly marching off one by one.  As they passed, I looked forlornly at my albatross, the bulky, black sling with its unruly Velcro more like tendrils from a vine with stiff leaves that catch on a fence, or more that they snag my clothes and nibble on me with their sharp teeth of strengthened fabric.

To sleep with my albatross is as irksome as wearing tight underwear.  Neither allow you comfort and are stellar robbers of tranquility; suddenly I am aroused from a deep sleep when a pinch awakens you.  If the pinch isn’t enough, my ulna nerve is not complacent as it is held in the dark at the back of the sling in a tight ninety degree angle 24/7.   First, the nerve tingles and then builds to a ferocious pain that only stops if I straighten my arm and wait!!

When I dress to lounge around the house I don’t mind how I look, but going out for an appointment or shopping is a different matter.  Sometimes, my left sock is difficult to go on so M. pulls it up for me.  After I dress I look in the mirror and even though I have gained weight I feel I look fine.  Next M. helps me put on the sling.  After much patience I tell him it is comfortable, that my collar isn’t rumpled or my left sleeve isn’t bunched under my armpit.

It’s time to make a mirror check.  There I am.  I look like a trussed, fat turkey.  I am always irritated how the straps can ruin any neatness!  Take a look and have a laugh!


The last thing I do when I go out is  to put on my shoes which are slip-ons.  So far, they are little torture chambers that even with a shoe horn teach lessons in humility as I call to M for help!!  I wonder, must the days before me be like the last 26!


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