A good night’s sleep of holding as still as humanly possible has done some good. After achieving a near magical configuration of pillows that took most of the pressure off the shoulder, it was all quite comfy, except when the cat stepped on me. Of course, sitting up completely un-drugged wasn’t much fun, but redmed had left drugs and water right next to the bed. Bless her.
Today, to the doc at 1pm to decide whether I’m on the “you’ve got some ligament left, we need to let it heal,” track, or the “let’s go in there and give you your first bionic joint” track. I’m torn between my gut wrenching fear of surgery, and my desire for superhuman strength and speed.
Here’s a decent picture of what I injured:
The acromioclavicular ligament either stretched way out or tore.
“Officer of recently formed Atheist club keeps injuring himself. Has no idea what’s up with that.”
Leave a Reply