How does one end up with a torn labrum? In my case it boils down to one word: IMPACT. It was the Fall of 1990, I was 17 and, as a result of being 17, invincible. I was playing football in a pick up game with a bunch of my friends in the park. Per standard operating procedure we were playing a full tackle game, no equipment on frozen earth. I should not have to tell you it might as well have been concrete...the pavement would have had more give to it. Anyway, Nick was running right at me, full speed and I was about to tackle him when I heard my name. I think someone said "Get him, Ang!" Well, I looked up and Nick hit me like a freight train and down I went. He hit me in the front part of my shoulder rather than my digging my clavicle into his gut and I remember a distinct crunching sound as I went down. My left arm got locked into an outside open position with my palm facing up and I couldn't put it down. Another friend of mine came over, massaged the shoulder and it fell back into place. It kinda felt like it wanted to go back and as soon as it had the opportunity it went right back. I stood up and went about my business and all seemed well.
About a week later, I was playing our Friday water polo game in my swimming class in HS and I flat-palm slapped the surface of the water and my shoulder just dislocated. It was an odd sensation in as much is it just felt like it slipped out place and then I just stood there for the next 20 minutes, in the corner till class ended. Since I was in the water I did not experience any pain. My arm was weightless and it was not really a big deal...until they tried to get me out. Then gravity took hold and so did the pain. In the end it took three people to get me out of the pool. There was one person holding my left arm and supporting the dislocated shoulder, another person pulling me out by my right arm and the third person standing squarely behind me, one hand on either cheek keeping me from retreating back into the pool. I should remember that poor , unfortunate classmate's name but I only have a vague recollection of his face.
The ambulance arrived and whisked me off to the Emergency Room at Brooklyn Hospital where the nice people were kind enough to use the traction/counter traction method to reduce my shoulder and sent me home.
I spent the next several weeks living in a shoulder immobilizer and then spent several weeks after that going to physical therapy. I don't specifically recall going to see the orthopedic surgeon but I do remember that surgery was not really even discussed as an option. It was just "Go to PT and everything will be fine." and it was. By the time I was done, my left shoulder, which is my non-dominant side, was actually stronger than my right when it was tested.
My next incident occurred a little over a year later. I was attending college in Florida and some of my friends and I were doing some flips into the pool. We were having a grand time until I attempted to do a flip and didn't rotate enough. Instead of going feet first into the pool, which was my intention, I landed with my shoulder blades flat against the water. I surfaced screaming profanities and I was chided by my friends an told the water was not that cold. After making my way to the shallow end of the pool and a brief, amateur medical evaluation we decided to attempt a reduction on our own. After all, we were college students and had been told there was nothing we couldn't accomplish so why not? I've always been a difficult reduction, even with trained medical assistance and drugs so we were not able to get my shoulder back into the socket. As a matter of fact, I recall thinking that we were most likely going to pull my wrist apart before we got my shoulder back into place.
So, once again, I wound up in an ambulance on my way the ER. The doctor who treated me at Holmes Regional Medical Center tried several time to lift my arm up so it would reduce and the last thing I remember after threatening to punch him if he lifted my arm again was the doctor saying "He's not out, give him more!" I saw a needle go into the catheter in my arm and the next thing I remember was Wally standing at the end of the gurney looking at me. In my estimation, I had been out for about 20 minutes but it had actually been several hours. With my shoulder back in place I felt right as rain. We piled in the car, made a stop at Subway on the way back to the dorm and carried on with business. I was sore for a bit, did some PT but was otherwise unaffected. Flips into the pool were crossed off the "To Do..." list. Otherwise, I was able to swim, lift weights, move vintage VW Beetles (long story) and just about anything else I wanted.
Until I did it, again. During the summer of 1992, I was working at Kings Plaza Marina in Brooklyn and slipped on the dock. My left leg slid on the some mossy wood on the deck and my foot went in the water. I put my left hand out to keep my face from plowing into a step and heard a subtle pop. There I sat until I saw one of my co-workers, convinced him that I needed help, was not kidding and got him to call an ambulance. The fine EMTs took me to Kings County Hospital where my Aunt met me.
This was, by far, the worst of my hospital experiences. The ER staff left me sitting in a wheelchair for 5 hours while waited for the orthopaedic surgeon to arrive from wherever he was and was not given anything for the pain. I was just told " The surgeon is on his way down." which gave me the impression he was on another floor. In actuality, he wasn't even in the building. After about 2 1/2 hours my aunt raised enough of a stink that they gave some Tylenol (how nice of them) and 2 1/2 more hours later this clown of a surgeon showed up. Then he wants to discuss my having surgery with him. I finally got him to shut up and put my shoulder back and I went home. After the way I had been treated at that hospital there was no way I was going to let anyone affiliated with it touch me.
This time I decided to skip the PT and the surgeon and I went on with my business.I did the PT exercises on my own and eventually healed. Once again, I was able to return to activity and had very few limitations, in spite of what I had been told
. I knew what I could and could not do and was just cautious. The only thing I really had to give up was diving. Otherwise, I played softball, swam, lifted weights, rode roller coasters and just about anything else you can imagine. If some thing made my shoulder feel weird, unstable or made it pinch, I found a way to work around it and keep up my activity. I was spending a lot of time in the gym and was able to do all the exercises I wanted and able to lift more and more weight so why not? From my point of view, there was no need to consider surgery.
2 comments:
Geez they'll give a blog to anyone these days! You know for a shoulder blog I thought this would be a little more humerus.
Oh well, I knew the heckling had to start at some point. Oh, wait...humerus, humorous. Now I get it. hahahahaha
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