Pony. Quarter. Orange.

If you follow my blog, you may recall I’m having shoulder replacement surgery next week on the 25th. I went in for my pre-op appointment two days ago. I’m having the surgery done at the University of Florida in Gainesville.

My first appointment was with the anesthesiology department. They had a lot of questions about prescription medication, smoking, alcohol usage, over the counter meds, vitamins, supplements, and illegal substances. I’m totally boring as I don’t take anything on a regular basis. I do have a drink every once in a while, and I tend to drink more in Florida than Michigan, but that’s because of the company I keep. I just got back in town so I shouldn’t have any trouble walking the straight and narrow until after the surgery.

Before she asked about those things, she gave me three words and told me to remember them. Pony. Quarter. Orange. She told me she’d ask me to repeat the words later in our discussion. After all the drug questions, she did just that.

I rattled off the three without hesitation.

She went on to say that substance questions help dictate the anesthesia they use. Some interact negatively with the simplest of things.

She gave me a blank piece of paper and then she said, “I want you to draw a picture of a clock that reads 11:10.” I was tempted to say, “a.m. or p.m.”, but I kept my mouth shut.

After I drew the picture, she gave me a picture of a clock that read 11:10 and asked me to duplicate it. She followed that with, “It’s not a trick. I just need you to copy the picture.”

She took them when I was finished and complimented me. “These are good. Your free hand is particularly impressive. You’d be surprised what I get.”

And then she said, “What are the three words.” Damn. I had to think. All I could muster was “Pony” and “Orange”. My wheels kept turning, but that was all I had.

“What if I gave you another minute. Do you think you can come up with it?”

“No. It’s gone.”

“Quarter”

“Yes, quarter. I won’t forget it now.”

I didn’t say it to her, but I think all the compliments threw me off.

I spent a total of four hours meeting with different disciplines. They each had a set of questions and explained their part of the procedure. Since it’s a teaching hospital, they asked if I would agree to be a part of a couple of studies. It would be anonymous, and there are no perks other than helping my fellow man.

I agreed to participate. I’m a former educator and if I can help the University improve, I’m all for it.

Some of the information I received was surprising.

1. All of my physical therapy will be done at home. They provide home exercises that you must do twice a day. After three weeks, I’ll need someone to help me with a couple of them. I’ll be following this protocol for three months.
2. After three months I start working on strength. The first three months deal with mobility.
3. I can’t drive my car for six weeks – until I’m out of the sling. Since it’s my left arm, I won’t be able to open and close the door without moving my shoulder and that’s a no no.
4. I will be able to drive my golf cart. I just slip in and out of it. There are no doors to close. I’m not going to drive all over The Villages, but I can go to the grocery store, get the mail, and visit friends.
5. I’ll be able to type but I’ll have to do it standing up. (They didn’t tell me this. I just figured it out.)
6. I can shower right away. The wet part will be easy, but the drying will be a challenge.
7. I have my sling, and they encouraged me to practice with it: dressing, showering, preparing meals, sleeping in my recliner, and going to the bathroom. I tend to be a lefty when I deal with my keister, so that will create some new muscle memory. (I know. TMI)
8. After surveying the house, I’ll do most things at the kitchen counter. I’ll use the same dishes and cookware over and over, so I stay out of the cupboards. And, yes, I’ll clean them each time I use them. I’ll also be typing there so if you notice a few crumbs in my stories please be patient. I’ll clean them up later.
9. I probably won’t be able to golf for six months. The swing won’t be the issue, but if I hit the ground with the club, the sudden stop could be problematic.
10. I will be able to pitch and putt after about three months. We have several of those courses here, so I’ll be a demon with my short game when I get back to the real thing.

My biggest surprise is I’ll probably go home the day of the surgery.  They don’t want me to get sick in the hospital.

The guy who’s doing my surgery is THE GUY. I didn’t want just anybody, so that’s why I’m going to Gainesville. Several of the techs I met with confirmed my choice. My ex-ray shows a humerus that looks like a jagged circular saw ripping apart my scapula. It’s not supposed to look that way, and it’s had limited function for more than a couple decades, so it’s time to get it fixed.

One final thought before I wrap up this progress report.

Pony. Quarter. Orange.