Today I did something I haven’t done in a long time. Play skeeball. Fellow blogger Vickie (from
Vickie and Bernie Travel), my hubby, and I went upstairs to the Teen Center to the Young at Heart Hours that I mentioned yesterday. It was quite fun. Thanks for the idea, Vickie!
They also had other activities. It was quite busy with all of us young at heart folks.
But when I was playing I was noticing my shoulder was bothering me even more. Hubby even mentioned that he saw I was rolling the ball differently than I would have before. After our games, I returned to the cabin to grab my backpack so I could go work somewhere other than our inside cabin. Once I got my computer and charger and two bottles of water in it, the backpack was too heavy (it really wasn’t, but it was for me) to get onto my shoulders.
Remember the other night when I was slammed by the bathroom door (among other mishaps that night) during rough seas? While I wrote about it on my blog, I hadn’t given all the details. (Didn’t want to worry folks back at home.) So now I have to mention an important part of the story – the part where my arm got twisted as I tried to keep the door off me and the other part where I heard a pop in my arm. While I’ve been trying to ignore the ramifications of that incident, every day since there has been something problematic with that shoulder. Today it was the backpack I couldn’t get on that shoulder. That shoulder has also made it very difficult to hook a certain undergarment, wash my hair, and push off when getting up out of a chair. It has made it difficult to lift beverages out of the refrigerator and hang up clothes. And hugging our crew member buddy every night has been taking some very careful, and a bit painful, shoulder maneuvering.
So I wandered off to the Medical Center this afternoon. I dislike doctors almost as much as dentists and only go when I absolutely have no other choice. One of the first questions the doctor asked me was why it had took me so long to come see her.
Because I thought it would get better? was all I could come up with.
Uh, well, no. Clearly she was more concerned about my shoulder than I was. She wanted to know if we were heading home in a couple days. When I said we won’t be home until December 23, she recommended I go to the ER once we get to Ft. Lauderdale and be seen by an orthopedic surgeon. That I need to have a cat scan of the shoulder. That I couldn’t wait that long to have it attended to. She gave me a shot (in the rump, no less!) for inflammation and pain and sent me off with acetaminophen to take until Ft. Lauderdale. And…wait for it…
Put in a sling.
Seriously? I was almost ready to break down crying. I wanted to explain that we are picking up a rental car in Ft. Lauderdale in two days. That hubby doesn’t drive. That we have a week-long road trip planned. And mention again that hubby doesn’t drive. That this isn’t going to fit in our plans. That I have to carry a backpack on my shoulders because hubby is disabled and he can’t carry luggage or carry-ons. That I’ve lived with pain all my life and I can live with it a bit longer.
But I held it all in. I got fitted for my sling. Got my shot in the rump and box of acetaminophen. Added $251 to my onboard account for medical services.
And had my chat with security.
When you have an accident anywhere on the ship, whether in the cabin or on the deck or in the dining room, security is called to take a report. When you hear security is called, people think you’ve done something wrong. So it was a bit embarrassing to have a chat with security in the waiting room when others were around. Security also takes photos of where the incident occurred (in my case, the bathroom door). So it was even more embarrassing to have security
knocking pounding on my door while shouting
security. Folks in nearby cabins even peeked out to see what was going on.
Hubby will be bringing me dinner back to the cabin tonight. I’m in no mood to walk out the door in the sling and attempt to eat with one hand in public. I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself, and a bit confused about what all this means for our next few weeks. All because of a dang bathroom door in rough seas.
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| I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself with today’s view. My pity party came later. |
One more sea day tomorrow. After that I have no idea.
