Off The Cuff

I’ve had something pressing on my mind of late. Akin to a brush with mortality, only from a great distance. Not so much death as deterioration, a personal and physical sense of dilapidation or disrepair. It seems rather odd that in over 30 years of living with a disability I’ve never really felt myself in disrepair until recently. It must be this age thing.

Pain seems to be an ever present part of life now. Never not present, a good day is less and the distraction not as noticeable. Learning to be less tolerant of it is a problem for me. Somehow I’ve managed to make it part of my day-to-day, marginalizing it into the background noise that is a part of every modern life. Big mistake.

I’ve added a new name and address to my contacts list recently. A professional and a professor at the university, he is a seeker, a teacher and a practitioner of skills and knowledge. He will be a good person to know in the coming months. He told me the other day that all of the tendons and ligaments that comprise my left rotator cuff are seriously damaged. Some, if not all, irreparably. It looks to have been a worsening process that has been developing for some time. Not a singular event where everything popped and snapped all at once, but an ongoing wearing down of tissues over time, and one by one things tore and became disconnected.  All I could respond with was, “that sucks”.

The surgery is scheduled for November 8. The primary intent is to effect modifications that will reduce pain over the long term. Secondarily, my new friend at the university will look for repair opportunities, if any exist, and exploit those that are available. As for the near term, I guess I will be really disabled for a bit. Being left with one working limb will certainly put a damper on the daily routine, but then I’ve never been one to shrink from a challenge. The long term outlook is more worrisome. It points towards the need to preserve what is left as long as possible in order to maintain independence and the inevitable limitations that will come as I age will come sooner than originally expected. A slower and more deliberate lifestyle is in store.

As evolved as we humans think we are it seems, more often than not, we learn only after we’ve past critical milestones beyond which there are no U-turns allowed. Such is the case with my pushing the pain back and soldiering on. Stupid move. Certainly there are other factors that contributed to the conveyance of myself to this current location; the ever-present masking pains that are a part of every quadriplegic’s life, a previous diagnosis for a condition that produced nerve related pain and not exhibiting the limited arm movements typical of a serious rotator cuff injury have all provided a means to keep stealth the true underlying issue. If I only knew then, what I know now.

So it’s with some reflection that I lift off the accelerator, drop a gear and cruse at a slower and more leisured speed for the remainder of the trip. You hear those stories of people who come close to death and only then realize the true beauty in the everyday, I think I’ll get started now and not wait for a dark shadow to first pass over me. Adjustments will need to be made and different approaches taken but it’s doable. Hell, it’s not like it’s a broken neck or anything…