We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Mrs. BD had increasing pain in her right shoulder, then running down her biceps, for two weeks, finally keeping her awake at night. Gets an appointment with the #1 shoulder guy in the world at the Hospital for Special Surgery in three days (last Monday). He is a kind, caring fellow who takes time with her. She gets a shoulder MRI two days later. Gets the diagnosis of early frozen shoulder one day later. Begins physical therapy and anti-inflammatory meds one day later.
Feeling better already. Even Fidel Castro couldn't get that kind of care and help, nor could Obama get better. Do I want my neighbor to pay for this for me? No - but thanks so much for offering to pay her bill. I believe in taking care of my own.
The bad news for her: no tennis for at least 2 months. The bad news for me: I gotta do all the cleaning and scrubbing, right when it's time to begin enjoying yard and garden work.
Well, we have snow flurries today, thanks to global warming climate change, so I guess the gardens can wait a while.
Take care of her well, Bird Dog. She deserves it. I remember when I had two eye operations years ago, and the doctor said I couldn't bend over, do housework or cooking for six weeks for fear of popping my stitches. My husband, a gently raised southern boy whose mama had done everything for him for far too long, stepped up to the plate and cooked our meals for six weeks. We had a lot of Peach-Mayo Surprise for dinner [a dish made up of canned peaches, cottage cheese and mayonnaise] and similar easy-do food, but we survived. And he learned how to cook simple things, like boiled eggs, bacon, etc. He already knew how to barbecue, which is a sacred southern rite practiced mostly by the men of the family, who compete loudly for excellence awards at barbecue contests. But that's a guy thing and doesn't count.
Peach/cottage cheese/mayo.... Wow, Marianne, I didn't know anyone who's ever heard of that. I love it, and I remember the nights my mother fixed it, it's all I wanted to eat.
One time after my divorce, I had surgery and had to stay in bed. My two kids took care of me, and it makes me warm all over to remember it. My son was fourteen and my daughter nine. I could hear them cooking and being really quiet, and then they'd appear at my bedside with a large tray filled with salad, entree, drink, dessert, and something picked from outside stuffed into a bud vase. Winter time... a twig with a leaf on it. But their precious offertory was completely overshadowed by the sight of them standing quietly, beaming proudly to see if I liked it. ugh... boo hoo... I cried so hard at their joy to help me that I'm all mushy now thinking about it.
Best wishes to you both. A damaged shoulder is more painful than one can imagine and nearly indescribable to one who has not experienced a damaged shoulder structure. I am in month 8 post-op from repairing a large hole torn through the rotator cuff in my dominant shoulder. Anyway, I can cast a line pretty good again and have begun throwing the ball to the dogs again. I can also work up my gardens relatively pain free. So, I am getting back to Maggie's form right well.
Anyway, tell her i feel her pain. And if you are inclined, please pass along to her to be patient and follow her Drs. and PTs procedures to the T and she will be pleased with a full recovery. I struggled mightily to do this, but it paid off. Thanks in no small part to my "old man" encouraging me to do so, and really picking up the slack.