Frozen Shoulder on a Stick

No frozen shoulder here.

Not just a shoulder, the “amazing” shoulder. Do you have amazing shoulders? How about lungs? I’d rather have amazing lungs than amazing shoulders. Just would, that’s all.

What’s the lifetime world record for number of doctor’s visits and medical tests?

I must be getting close to it. At least it feels like I am.

Last two weeks: CF clinic, ENT doctor, dentist, lung scan, ortho specialist. And the sleep study and O2D2 at night before that.

Results: I have hearing loss thanks to the endless doses of IV Tobramycin I’ve sucked down, and, as a bonus, a frozen shoulder thanks to who knows what.

I didn’t need a test to tell me I can’t hear certain high sounds anymore. And my shoulder still moves and isn’t technically “frozen,” but it sparks a ton if I move it the wrong way.

But I did not like the lung scan, Sam I am.
I did not like it at all with green eggs and ham. 

“Lie down, please. Take the paper bag off your head.” Those words sound much better when they come from my wife.

The super-efficient nurse placed a mask on my face, told me to hold it tight and not let air escape, then injected something into the mask and told me to take a deep breath and hold it for 10 seconds. This process reminded me of a scene in a movie with two drug addicts getting high. Could I have the colitas spray next time, please, nurse?

I didn’t ask what she made me inhale. I didn’t want to know, as my new “living day to day” attitude gives me “who gives a shit” powers. But I did panic because I couldn’t breathe normally, and I allowed a little air to slip out of the mask.

Why is everyone running away? Damn, Nurse, you weren’t joking about holding the mask tight.

Next came the IV and this nurse nailed it. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am – it is possible to start an IV without it feeling like someone hammered a nail into my arm.

She injected another substance I had no desire to know the name or chemical composition of. Then, unlike a CT scan where you’re inserted into the oven to be cooked, the oven came to me, surrounding with me with a metal plates to take pictures of my air bags, changing positions and moving around me several times.

This is the worst photo ever. It's the shot I took as the machine was passing over me. It was everything I could do to get my iPod out and snap the picture.

This is the worst photo ever. It’s the shot I took as the machine was passing over me. It was everything I could do to get my iPod out and snap the picture.

At the ENT, I got the bad news about my hearing. And the ringing in my ears? Here to stay thanks to my feeble brain’s interpretation of the damage.

There was a bright side to the visit. We spoke about our kids – he has two very young ones – and I mentioned how in a German hospital years ago I hoped I would live to see my daughter turn 5. That would be great, I thought. If I can just make it to see her turn five.

Where did the time go? I asked. It’s a blink. One day she rode on my shoulders, the next she was 11. Now I want to live to see her graduate high school, which is odd because it was my mother’s goal to see me live to graduate high school.

[The following sentence is meant to be read in a crusty old British accent]: Twist of fate? Perhaps. Perhaps not, my good man. Tea, anyone?

Then came a long, strange pause as I waited for the doctor to shove the scope in my nose. Pause. Wait for it. More of a pause. Pause. Wait for it. Is the machine not working? Okay, he’s moving. He’s awake.

“Sorry, I was getting teary-eyed,” the doctor said.

What? That’s strange. And he’s serious, not sarcastic. Hmm, that doesn’t happen every day. Very unusual.

Some doctors are human. At least the good ones are. And I found one.

It’s a good day when that happens. A good day, indeed.

4 thoughts on “Frozen Shoulder on a Stick

  1. I love your doctor, what a rare diamond in a pit of coal eh? Theres much i would like to type here but am on the iphone and this autocorrect is a killer…think of all tje things you would like to hear and pretend i said them.
    As for seeing her graduate, Im pulling for her wedding day, and you know about our australian superpowers!!

    • Karyn, Queen of the World, but living in Australia,

      I agree with you. He surprised me. I like him a lot more now. Usually, I’m so full of shit, people are trying to understand what the heck I just said and if I’m crazy or not. I’m still stunned I said something . . . emotional? Strange. A fluke or warp in the time/space continuum. Something like that.

      Let’s see, I’m pretending, pretending. Hey it works. 🙂

      Do I want my daughter to get married? 🙂 Yes, I guess I do. And I would like to walk her down the aisle. So, I’m pulling for being around on her wedding day too. Of course I won’t be able to hear any of it and my shoulder will be frozen to my side, and little O2D2 will be following me everywhere, but I’ll be there to see it. And that would be cool.

      I’m always happy to hear from you. I hope those businesses are rocking.


  2. When it rains it pours going to the docs, eh?

    Aw the good old VQ scan. Did you glow green after the isotopes were infused? 😉 I had my VQ while in the hospital, they wrapped a radioactive bracelet on me and told me to flush the toilet twice every time for 2 days. No joke. Huh – they made me breathe and inject that stuff? I actually saw the results at next clinic and my lungs were glowing on the screen, showing the bloodflow and airflow, pretty cool actually.

    Hope you do see graduation and beyond! 🙂

    • Jodi,

      You’re right it raining doc appointments. I was so excited to get two appointments scheduled on one day so I didn’t have to make two separate trips.

      They did not tell me any of the things they told you. Hmm, that’s odd. I’m going to ask to see the scan the next time I go to clinic. I got the results and luckily no blood clot. That I’m happy about.

      Thanks for the wishes to see my daughter graduate. That’s my goal.

      Nice of you to visit and comment. Thank you.


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