Oh The Stories a Sling Can Tell

For the past almost 6 weeks, I’ve been walking around with my right arm in a sling. Recovery from shoulder surgery takes a while, so I decided quite soon after my procedure I was going to resume every facet of normalcy I could with one functional arm.  Elastic pants have become my wardrobe staple, I’ve become accustomed to multiple and sequential bad hair days, and my excuse to refrain from household chores still stands. Adapting to one armed activities takes a bit of creative problem solving, but no worries. It helps I’m left handed. I haven’t chopped an onion since the last snowfall, and I’m happy to report I planted the impatience and begonias in our front yard. The fruits of my planting might not earn the neighborhood beautification award; but at least the flowers are in the dirt. All it takes is one arm to dig in the soil. All in all, my healing recovery is going well. The funniest part of it all is I would have never guessed wearing my protective sling would be such a bonding topic of conversation with strangers.

For example, I was in the snack aisle at Krogers and the elderly gentleman who put a bag of cheese puffs in his basket noticed my sling. What ensued was an 8 minute conversation about his recent shoulder replacement surgery and how he can now raise his arm in the shower. I was happy to know that.

Then there was another woman in a different grocery store that went on to explain she had two such slings as mine. Hearing about two shoulder surgeries takes twice the time, not to mention I couldn’t help but visualize her closet clutter of arm slings.

Then there was a woman who walked into the nail salon with a sling just like mine. You’d think we discovered we were long lost relatives from the homeland. We shared snippets of our active recovery phases and the nail technicians were convinced we’d known one another for years. Who would have known a post shoulder surgery support group could spontaneously be created in a nail salon. I mean if you’re going to share stories about how to tie a shoe one handed or compare physical therapy exercises, you may as well do it in a nail salon where newly painted pink toenails can compensate for lopsided hair-dryer dried hair.

The best was a man who was in his yard and noticed me as I walked along his neighborhood sidewalk.

“Torn labrum?” he yelled from across the street. I removed my ear pods and corrected his assumption. “No,” I said with a smile. “Rotator cuff repair.”

“It must not be as bad,” he bellowed. “I had my shoulder surgery two years ago and was laid up for months.”  I felt particularly grateful my labrum tendon was just fine.  

“Well,”  I said, trying not to be rude. I was in a good place listening to my audible book. “We just need to keep moving.” I didn’t miss a step. There would be no part of me that was ever going to willingly admit to being “laid up for months.”

This chapter in recovery will soon be behind me. You probably don’t care in the least about me raising my arms in the shower, nor do I feel compelled to talk about that. As I continue to gain use of my right arm, I am grateful for the ability to heal. I’ve been very thankful for my legs that keep walking, and my super sling which has proven to be quite the conversation piece. I soon expect the black Velcro appendage to be a need of the past. I will return to the world of anonymity as I peruse the grocery aisles and move about the world. And really, my shoulder and I are quite ok with that.