Superman For Just One Day

5 Percent

I recently underwent what was supposed to be shoulder surgery to repair a torn rotator cuff. It was arthroscopic surgery, which revealed that my rotator cuff, although showing signs of damage, wasn't actually torn. So, yes, I had preliminary exploratory surgery for nothing. I was somewhat shocked after the surgery when the doctor said, “Turns out your rotator cuff is fine.” How did this happen? How can the imaging of my shoulders have misled the surgeon? Well, it turns out that the leading indicator of a torn rotator cuff is when the ball of the humerus, which sits inside your shoulder blade, shows signs of “moving up” and pushing into the rotator cuff, which sits on top of the joint. Apparently, it’s 95% accurate. I fell in the 5% group. But looking at the big picture, that is good news.

Before the surgery, I was interviewed by two anesthesiologists who wanted to know if I preferred a nerve block with mild sedation over complete anesthesia (being put to sleep). The dilemma was my neck. My neck was fused in 2019, which means I have limited movement, up and down and left to right. Therefore, intubating me if put to sleep can prove challenging because the head and neck do not fully extend. The last time I was intubated, I had to do it awake before my neck fusion surgery. It was very unpleasant. After some discussion, I settled on the nerve block because my surgeon said that they could monitor my neck during the surgery. So, I was given a sedative to relax me, followed by the nerve block, which is an injection in the side of your neck. I have no recollection of that part becuase the sedative ended up putting me to sleep. I slept through the entire procedure, unlike one of my hip surgeries, where I saw my leg lifted way in the air but could not feel a thing. I had no idea my leg was in the air. I could see it, but I could not feel it. This was my first glimpse into what a person who suffers from paralysis due to a spinal cord injury must feel like. But it came and went, and that was that.

Paralyzed

However, in my case, the anesthetic did not wear off until about 24 to 36 hours later. I was put in a sling in the operating room and sent home. I could neither feel nor move my arm. My arm, which hung in the sling, weighed a ton. As hard as I tried to move my fingers, it was impossible. My wife, Sherrie, drove me home and stayed with me for a couple of days until I could use my arm again. It’s incredible how much you can't do when you have just one arm. Just pulling up a pair of pants over my underwear proved difficult. You can’t do up a button, tie your shoes, prepare food, or even cut your food. And obviously, I could not type on the computer.

Driving would undoubtedly be challenging, though I did not attempt it with just one arm! My arm was totally useless. I realized two things: 1) How debilitating it is to lose a limb, and 2) What it must feel like to have a spinal cord injury and be paralyzed from the neck down. I’ve always been very sensitive to what life must be like for paralyzed individuals. The movie “Born on the Fourth of July,” starring Tom Cruise as Ron Kovic, a Vietnam veteran who was paralyzed from the waist down after being shot in the spine, left an imprint on my mind. All I kept thinking was, who on earth can live like that? Your life has been taken away from you, yet you still have to live your life crippled and in a wheelchair, forever dependent on others to care for you. I am well aware that there are plenty of people who are, sadly, wheelchair-bound for life. Many of them have faced their disability head-on, which is incredibly admirable. I don’t know that I would have what it takes to accept that. I have been through a lot with my health, having had multiple joint replacement surgeries and fusion surgeries over the past 30 years, but at least I’m not in a wheelchair—yet. A time may come when I am an old man that I may need to use a wheelchair, but for now, I can still walk, albeit with some chronic pain in my feet, knees and hips.

I recently watched “Super Man: The Cristopher Reeves Story” on CNN (notice the space between “Super” and “Man”). Seeing a person go from superhero to completely disabled was not an easy viewing. Chris’s reality was excruciatingly painful to watch. How tragic. For 24 hours, I had a tiny window into what it must feel like to have a body that is basically a sack of bricks that you can't move or feel. In a small way, I felt like I was “Super Man” for just one day.

I should add that my other shoulder does, for sure, have a torn rotator cuff as well as a damaged ball and socket. The imaging, in this case, is 100% accurate. I’m due to have reverse shoulder replacement surgery in the fall of this year. In this instance, I will be in a sling for 6 weeks, followed by 6 months of physiotherapy. That’s a long haul. I’m told that I will lose some range of motion but no longer have pain in the joint. Despite the dysfunction and pain I have, I still have an almost complete range of motion. So to lose some of that kind of sucks. 

Life—what an obstacle course it is. Life can be tough even for those lucky enough to have health and autonomy. I’ve had to face physical challenges for over 30 years. I've been on hundreds of different medications and supplements—at one time, I was on over 20 medications. I have multiple health problems, and I have endured a lot of pain, both physically and emotionally. It is said that just about everyone in this world suffers from some form of PTSD. We’ve all experienced some form of trauma. It's not limited to war veterans. There is something called “Illness-Induced PTSD” that affects millions and millions of people, including me. It also affects caregivers. It turns out that they, too, suffer from their form of PTSD.

Lucky Guy

I haven't had much luck with my health. And you only get one go at it, by that, I mean life—you get just one kick at the can. So, in many ways, I feel like I was gipped. I started this blog as a way to deal with everything that has happened to me and continues to happen daily. I wanted to help others understand what life was like for a person with chronic, degenerative, invisible illnesses. I can confidently say that it’s not been an easy road for me, but right now, I'd rather be me than Super Man.

I leave you today with the classic "Superman's Song" by the Crash Test Dummies.

Written by Patrick Franc - Your Friendly Neighbourhood Bionic Man