Some of you were there – literally there – a little over 13 years ago when it happened. When my shoulder fell apart. Adam and Lindy were there when I was reaching for stuff in the air while the docs at Baptist put my joint back in place, but not really back together.

This month marks the 13 year anniversary of when I finished PT for my shoulder reconstruction. They repaired the rotator cuff, reattached some tendons and ligaments, and left me with a 5″ souvenir scar – “I had my shoulder rebuilt, and all I got was this dumb scar.”

It’s been bothering me a bit over the last couple of years. A big shift in the weather, and I’m feeling it. Can’t get comfortable at night. Growling a bit more at my friends, coworkers, neighbors. The weather changes needed to trigger the aches have been getting smaller, and after quite a bit of encouragement from Andrea, I talked to my doctor, and made an appointment with an orthopaedic specialist.

The nice thing about going to a respected doctor at Vandy is that, through him, I’ve got access to some amazing specialists. I saw Dr. Hannah at the Vandy Sports Medicine Clinic this last week, and was very impressed. The clinic is run like a well-oiled machine, clean and fresh. The staff and nurses treat you like a patient, not a file. Dr. Hannah was compassionate, listened; he didn’t get overly clinical, yet was very professional.

So, the x-rays looked good. Quite good on Vandy’s computerized medical imaging system. It was pretty cool to see it on a nice widescreen lcd, where he could adjust the “lighting” of the “film” with a trackball, rather than having two settings: one bulb or two. Structurally, he said everything was fine. It’s simply that when you rebuild a joint, it doesn’t go back together exactly like it should, so the wear is a bit different. Just needs a little tweaking, a little maintenance. No surgery at this point.

I’m taking a stronger anti-inflamitory for a month, and starting 6 weeks of PT next Friday. I’m really hopeful, at this point. I’ve been dreading going back to the ortho, dreading the spectre of surgery, remembering how hard it was. But I’m not in the midst of a severe depression this time. I’m not alone in a dorm room, trying to balance classes, work, being an RA. I have a wonderful and supportive wife, and I’m at home. So I’m hopeful.