Shoulder Surgery

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?  Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?  - Matthew 6:26-27

Carol had shoulder surgery on January 7.  I was very anxious about my role as a caregiver.  I would need to be there as she recuperated and went through physical therapy.  I was overwhelmed.  This was going to be a monumental paradigm shift.  For most of our marriage, she took care of ME!  Now the roles are reversed.  How was this going to work?  I’m a guy.  I do guy stuff.  I’m not wired for this.  Give me a good construction project or a golf course, and I’m in my element.

I went through as many of the possible scenarios that I could think of:

Her right arm will be almost completely immobilized for six to ten weeks.  She will only be able to use her left arm (she is right-handed).  Writing will be an issue.  Using the phone will be challenging.  I will have to do all the cooking, cleaning and dish-washing.  Will I have to spoon feed her?  What else?  Getting undressed; getting dressed; tying shoes; opening and closing containers; taking a shower; opening pill bottles.  Am I up for all of that????

Short answer -   Absolutely NOT!  I was very anxious about my role in her recovery.  But I would try my best.

And even with my helpful "will I have tos", there were lots of things not anticipated: 

Putting on her Apple watch; recliner chair adjustments; inserting charger cords; closing the car door (the door is on her right side); applying deodorant to left arm; opening the meds every two to four hours in the middle of the night; insomnia; pain management; comfort management (there is a difference); inserting and removing contacts; applying moisturizing cream (I cannot stand greasy fingers); buttons and zippers; putting on socks; helping her with make-up (one try at eye liner and she fired me); spreading butter and jelly on toast; connecting the cooling pad; changing the ice in the cooling pad; removing and reinstalling the sling (and later realizing that she came from surgery with it installed wrong).  Oh boy!

FDR once said, “The only thing we have to fear is…fear itself.”  I’ve stated my fears.  So, what is the reality?  Most of my worst fears never happened.  Carol is easy to care for and helpful where she can be.  She doesn’t complain.  She has learned to do a lot of things with her left hand, and one-handed.  She goes very light on the pain meds, significantly less than what is prescribed.  She has a threshold of pain that would make a Navy Seal envious.

For the mornings, we developed a routine where I helped her get dressed (she does most of it herself).  She does need help with her Apple watch, socks and shoes.  Over time, I’ve learned to fix her favorite breakfast: avocado toast.  The first few weeks, she wore the ice pack almost all the time, so there was a lot to do keeping up with that.  But during the day, she would pretty much take care of herself.  In the evening, I would attempt preparing dinner.  Several friends provided meals for us, which was probably more of a blessing for me than Carol.  That made things easier.  Sometimes I would have to cut up her food, but usually not.  In the evening, we would go through the reverse process of undressing and getting ready for bed.  But again, Carol did a lot of it herself.  As each week goes by, she learns to do more.  She becomes more comfortable and accepting of the process.  She sleeps better and has less pain.

In the end, this was all about Carol, and not me and my anxieties.  God has provided more than we could have hoped for.  Carol is healing and getting more comfortable.  And I am learning to be LESS anxious and fearful, and MORE trusting of God.

"And my God will meet all of your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus." - Philippians 4:19