Shoulder Surgery Chronicles: Chapter 5: Surgery Day!

Part 1: The Journey to the Surgery Center

As my husband and I are driving to the surgery center, I am brimming with anxious optimism. I know that today is going to change my life. It’s a funny feeling, as though these past three years I’ve been waiting for my life to begin anew. Glum as it may sound, all I could do until now was survive. Keep fighting for answers and the quality of life I deserve. Relish the fleeting moments of happiness wherever I find them…just hold on.

Do the legwork, work through the emotional turmoil of that process, endure each disappointment. Continue putting one foot in front of the other. My stubborn refusal to give up, and the steps I have taken the past three years has led me to this victory.

Buying a house in this particular part of Kentucky was part of that, putting me near the medical professionals I needed. Although I suppose part of that was luck, what with shopping during the ludicrous post-pandemic housing fever. Sure, we wanted to leave the Southwestern desert badly, aching to see something green and alive instead of dead and/or stabby. Seriously, even the grass has teeth there. See for yourself:

We craved land to frolic about and find peace in, and cleaner air and water. It fit our family and basic parameters, and was the first place we managed to get an offer in that was accepted. Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel it was meant to be.

Oddly enough, the doctor I ended up needing wasn’t the one I was seeking when we bought a house here. I ventured to KY with a referral to Dr. Brent Morris. What we didn’t know at the time, was that Dr. Morris wasn’t “the guy.” (His words) By another beautiful stroke of luck, the doctor he referred me to also happened to be located in Lexington, KY.

To my knowledge, Dr. Grantham happens to be the only practicing surgeon in the world that has the knowledge, skills, and expertise required to fix my shoulder the correct way. Secondly, he is the only physician (to my knowledge) who partners with a physical therapy clinic familiar with the intricacies of this condition, and how to rehab it properly.

All of this combined is simply too much for me to accept as mere coincidence. Though I do not consider myself to be a superstitious person, I can’t help believing this is fate. I cannot simply dismiss such a mountain of proof. When all of these pieces suddenly and effortlessly fell into place, it became crystal clear to me why I am here.

I am here in this part of Kentucky to get my shoulder fixed properly, by the right expert hands, so I can finally move on with my life. I have the best physical therapist for the job to guide me through recovery. Pain be damned, I am happy beyond measure, thrilled to every fiber of my being, to be unstuck.

Part 2: Game Time

My pre-op nurse Jennifer was truly amazing! She explained everything so well, in so much detail, that I hardly had any questions. She took great care of me, including comic relief! She kept calling the blue hat I had to put on my “party hat,” and calling the sedative medications the “I don’t care” meds. To top it off, Nurse Jennifer thoughtfully asked if there is anything that makes my PTSD worse.

If I’m not mistaken, I don’t recall ever having a nurse ask me that before surgery or any other outpatient procedure. It was one of a multitude of things she did that put me at ease. Her caring bedside manner let me know that I was in good hands, exactly where I needed to be, and reinforced my intuition that this is the right thing for me to do. To be honest, I liked her loads more than the anesthesiologist that came a bit later.

I found said anesthesiologist to be a bit strange. He spoke rapidly and imparted some weird vibes that certainly did not make me feel at ease, a bit off-putting actually. Having been through surgery prep before, instead of the comical, easygoing type that I’m used to seeing during this stage, this guy seemed like he was in a hurry and a little twitchy.

This anesthesiologist simply authorized the nurse to give me my other meds and do a nerve block. He said it was supposed to “kind of numb up the area, but it wouldn’t take away all of the pain.” So, that is precisely what I was expecting.

However, after about 20 minutes or so, I still didn’t feel numb. I could still feel my arm and shoulder/scapula area quite well, it just felt slightly heavy. I really started worrying when it still felt that way when I was being wheeled back toward the operating room.

Apparently, when my pre-op nurse went to check on that with him, he told her that it could take up to an hour to take effect. Naturally, my first thought was, “Well why the hell didn’t he come an hour before I was supposed to be wheeled back then?!” Sure enough, my concern was completely validated when I woke up and I was in A LOT of pain, like 8/9 out of 10. My shoulder felt as though that nerve block failed to take away hardly any of the pain.

Believe me when I say I’d much rather preferred my shoulder being completely numb that first day through the worst of the pain. I feel as though that should be standard procedure, but I’m not the anesthesiologist, I guess. I will be mentioning that to Doctor Grantham at my follow-up visit though.

Now, the post-op nurse…I did not like her so much. At the time, I had a tiny urge to tell her to F off, or swat her away with my good arm. I wanted to say to her “Ma’am, I know you have a job to do, but can we please slow down just a bit?” To me, it seemed as though she was being a bit short and trying to rush me out the door as quickly as possible, as if I didn’t just wake up from major surgery.

My husband didn’t see anything wrong with the way she was behaving towards me, then again, he wasn’t the one that just woke up from shoulder surgery exhausted, groggy, and in a level of pain they were not prepared for. She did, however, double my IV pain dose and give me an oral medication when I was finally able to articulate how bad my pain was.

It is worth mentioning that it wasn’t so much the grogginess that made it hard to speak. Rather, it was the amount of pain I was in that made it hard to communicate. If you have never been in that much pain, I sincerely hope you never are. Long of the short, it wasn’t all bad with her, but I was certainly glad to get out of there.

When I asked a nurse where we could get the cryotherapy cuff [1] from, I was disappointed to learn that we had to purchase it from Doctor Grantham’s main office, a separate building from the one that we were in for the surgery. It would have been nice to know that ahead of time, as this information was not documented in the pre-op folder I was given before my surgery.

We had just enough time to stop by his main office on the way home, only to be disappointed again that the representative was not there. I thought to myself “I’m glad I have a ton of ice packs at home.” They don’t quite cover the whole area that hurts, but it’s better than nothing. At this point, I thought “screw driving all the way back up there for a guy that may not be there again.” (It’s an hour and a half drive for us.)

In hindsight, that drive may have been worth it. I’ve no doubt that that item would have helped me tremendously at home those rough first few days. Anyway, during the trip home my husband filled me in on my doctor’s account of the mess in my shoulder, since I had still been asleep when he came by.

“When I got in there, it was exactly what I suspected: the trapezius and scapular muscles along the medial border of the scapula were almost completely detached. The top and bottom corners of the muscles were still attached, but the whole middle section was not. The parts that were still attached and all the surrounding muscles were having to work harder to compensate. It was preventing her from moving her shoulder and arm correctly. Those things combined were just irritating everything in the area and causing all of that pain.”

Hearing this report filled me with a mixed bag of feelings. I allowed myself to feel each of them and then let go, as I realized I had been holding it all on my shoulders for so long. I cried for a while, for very different reasons all at once. There came a sense of pity and grief, for my body that tried to heal something beyond natural human ability the best it could. Then there was sweet relief and validation, turns out it wasn’t all in my head.

The mind knows what the body has yet to understand.

Next came the closure and peace that comes from finally having answers and my shoulder finally being repaired. After a hot flash of bitter anger swept through me for it taking so long to get here, feeling cheated of the years of pain and limitations that I will never get back.

Finally, I felt a bright, warm rush of optimism and hope flooding through me, as if sunlight would glow through my skin, and emanate from my fingertips. I let joyful tears flow down my cheeks as I smiled at the bold blue sky. Relishing in the sunlight, I felt ready to bounce back, ready for my next chapter, brimming with opportunity. I think I would have gone dancing down the sidewalk, had it not been for the pain. Stay tuned for my journey through recovery.

[1] A cryotherapy cuff is an ice pack that is hooked up to a machine with cold water in it. It wraps completely around the shoulder, providing a constant flow of cold liquid coursing through it.