Mine was April 30. To repair two tears in cartilage where the arm joint fits into the shoulder socket, called, wait for it, the labrum.
I also had them throw in a new vagina.
It can all be traced back to December 2011. We had terrible, terrible winds here in the Eagle Rock areolas. Those winds knocked down the top of a huge pine tree behind my house. That pine tree got cut into huge piles of firewood by Mexican gentlemen. Those Mexican gentlemen left a cinder block up near the tree, for them to sit on and enjoy their lunch. Sardines, menudo, and Pepsi. How do I know? They left their food wrappings, in a gesture of friendship.
In February 2012,whilst organizing the hitherto unorganized fallen and cut pine tree fragments, that cinder block got thrown by me, trying to clean up after said Mexican gentlemen. That throw caused a spark of pain and electricity in my shoulder. Of the likes I hadn’t seen since Tesla: The Musical on Ice (or known in Europe as A Genius, A Scholar, A Miracle, and 50,000 Watts of Pure Monkey Humpin’.)
So me, dating a girl named Blueberry, who’ve I’ve since married, (see our wedding invite ticket, left) was all about healing whatever the fuck was wrong with me with a lil’ natural healing magic. Rest, time, water, avoiding masturbation, etc.
And that didn’t work so I went to a chiropractor for 4 months.
And that didn’t work so I went to a physical therapist for 3 months.
And that didn’t work so I Yelp’d “best orthopaedic surgeon los angeles” and found a great doctor in Burbank.
Went there. He didn’t fuck around. “MRI with contrast. Go.” So I went. I came back with the results. He further didn’t fuck around. “You’ve got a tear here and here.” I said “How much to fix?” He said $X. (I’m a cash patient.) I said “Deal.”
Two weeks later and a pre-op exam to make sure I wouldn’t die under the knife, I was sucking in anesthesia, counting back from 10.
I wake up, and my arm’s novocained. Or something similar. I’m loopy as all fuck. Wife drives me home. No pain because I’m still numb from the nerve block shot the anesthesiologist gave me.
Re: Anesthesiologist – Also a great guy, who’s mucho appreciado because he decided to give me that nerve block instead of just relying on a higher dosage of anesthesia, which would’ve made that first day more nauseous and groany. Or that’s what I read anyhow. As it stood, I had zero nausea all day.
They stitched my cartilage back to the bone, and scraped the hell out of the rough bone stuff in there to make sure it would heal right. Look at me sounding all medically professional.
I’m not 30 days into healing yet, but I think it worked.
The thing that doesn’t work is typing with one hand. What a salty bitch.
Ever try cleaning up after the bathroom with the wrong hand?
Or cutting a piece of meat?
Or cleaning yourself with a piece of meat while in the bathroom?
But I can’t complain too much. I signed up for this. Sure, sometimes torn labrums (labria?) heal, apparently. Mine was torn in two places, and would’ve been a long ass time, if ever. I decided to go into debt to fix my goddamn arm. Yeah, I had no health insurance.
Had my first beer a week ago. Writing this with both hands for the first time. Tomorrow I should be cleared to remove the immobilizer and begin physical therapy.
Also, you know what I do when people tell me about their health problems? I glaze over.