If you've read this far, you're probably wondering why I didn't have surgery after the dislocation on the dock so I would not have to think about it any longer. There were a few reasons, starting with my being a chicken. I had never had any surgery to speak of and am not big on new things I'm not sure of. Secondly, I wasn't confident the surgery was going to stop the dislocations.
At that time I knew several people who were dealing with their shoulders dislocating, many of them had had surgery to correct it and only one person I knew had had any success. I could not see going through a painful surgery and a long difficult rehabilitation only to continue to have to worry about the shoulder continuing to come out. My instability was not chronic so I decided to live with it. I lived with the condition for over 12 years and did not dislocate it once in that time. All good things come to an end.
This is the one that really gets everyone's attention. January 2004 - I was replacing the range hood in my apartment and realized, after I had turned the power back on, that I never checked to make sure the flue was clear. I proceeded to shove a large metal spatula up past the fan an into the flue. The flue was clear but I also hit the coil from the fan and got quite a shock. One minute I was standing there thinking "I'm being electrocuted. This sucks!", the next minute I'm on the floor and the spatula is half way across the room. Once I shook off the jolt I had just gotten I realized my shoulder felt weird but was not sure it was dislocated. After a moment I came to the realization that it was and I got the ball rolling. I called 911 and my family that was on their way to my house and let them know to skip my place and just meet me at the ER.
This time I wound up at St. John's Hospital on Queens Blvd. in Rego Park, NY. I was treated fairly well and was attended to relatively quickly. There were two problems I had with my treatment here. Firstly, as I've mentioned before, I'm a difficult reduction. The nurse miscalculated the dosage of Propyphol, a.k.a Milk of Amnesia, to give me and I woke up with my shoulder still out of the socket and a nice, young doctor tugging on my arm. After a "discussion" between the doctor and the nurse concluded with them not being able to give me anymore drugs because they had already maxed out my dosage, I was privileged enough to experience that which is the pleasure of having your shoulder reduced while wide awake! I have assume that his frustration led to him digging his thumb into my arm pit while trying to get the ball back into the socket. I was so grateful for the ordeal to be over that I didn't realize what had happened. Between the digging in my arm pit and the pulling on my arm with the sheet I was left horribly bruised and the bruising lasted for months! I was quite a shock when the water hit my body in the shower later that night. The armpit is a very delicate area and does not react well to that kind of manipulation.
There I went again. I stayed home from work because there was a lot of ice on the ground and I made an appointment to see the Ortho at St. John's. He was very nice and gave me the standard speech. I was over 30 years old and, therefore, less likely to dislocate again and he was not going to push for the surgery. I explained my concerns about the surgery not working and he explained that the field had narrowed to one procedure, Bankart Repair, and that it was about 85%-95% successful. He wrote me a prescription for PT and advised that I should only consider surgery if I felt the shoulder was really limiting my activity.
I went and ,dutifully, finished my PT but ,truth be told, the shoulder was never really "right" after that. I stopped going to the gym because I could not lift weights the way I used to and I never really regained the strength I should have. I did some research on the procedure and felt better about it but still had concerns about needing a lot of help during recovery and living alone. More importantly, the surgeon had given me an out and I was going to take it. I took up other hobbies to stay fit, I started bike riding and running and just continued to be cautious.
Then came 2007. My friends, Matt & Anne, asked if I would help them move the day after Thanksgiving. I agreed and spent the day helping them move their furniture and boxes. They were only switching apartments with the person downstairs from them so it was a fairly easy move. I knew my limitations and let the other guys handle the stuff that could potentially pull my shoulder out. In spite of my caution, I wound up in the ER anyway.
I guess the strain on the muscles was too much. We were joking around at the end of the day and I jumped up, flailed my arms and as I came down I just heard "CRUNCH". I took a knee and , after I convinced Anne I was serious, got someone to call the ambulance.
The EMTs took mercy on me and let me sit in the center jump seat so I would not feel every bump on the way to the hospital. FDNY transported me to Jacobi Medical Center in the Bronx and it was the best treatment I've ever received in an ER! They had me in and out of there in a little under 3 hours from evaluation to release. I think it was a record for me to get out of an emergency room. It was also the first time I had been given pain meds before I was x-rayed. They gave just enough IV morphine so that I could stand up straight for my x-ray and not be in agony. If you have the means I highly recommend it. Matt said he was going to take a picture of me with my arm out of the socket but never did. Too bad. I could've used it now. I explained to the doctor how I was mutilated 4 years earlier and he promised not to do that to me.
Actually, they got quite creative. When the typical traction/counter traction method failed they tried, after some discussion, something I had never experienced before. They hung some IV bags from my elbow and rolled me on my stomach. The weight and the position created enough traction so that my arm went back in on it's own without being forced or creating more trauma on other parts of my body. Kudos and thanks to them. I got a ride home and knew it was time to pay the piper.
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