The Clavicle Journey

I had this realization tonight while I was putting Zed to sleep: I had an airline ticket to St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands for today. Tomorrow I was supposed to jump onto a Royal Caribbean cruise ship for a week and do two shows in a beautiful theater one of the nights. Dan and I do cruise ships two weeks a year because we have a great time and usually come out of it with a bunch of new jokes for our show.

My realization tonight was that if I had landed on my head in the accident instead of my shoulder I probably would have killed myself and today would’ve been my funeral. So being here a lazy boy chair, still able to put my boy to bed, with lots of time to think, write, and create my life, is a pretty darn good outcome!

I know the hotel in St. Thomas where we stay the night before boarding a ship very well. I leave my room and within two minutes I am at the shore of the Caribbean and there’s nothing like a midnight swim out around the dozen ships that are docked a couple hundred yards offshore. I was there last year with Annie and Zed and did two laps around the ships followed by an hour of watching Zed float on his back in the buoyant, salty Caribbean.

On the other end of the extreme, I’ve never died in a bike accident but I have to imagine it sucks. All you can hope is that it happens instantly and that you don’t spend weeks or months or years wishing it would end. And that I would never have to look down and catch a picture of his life going on without me.

So laying there reading to Zed tonight, feeling dozens of new tingling nerves in my numb fingers, I realize just how lucky I am. All that while reading a chapter book to my little boy in three different character voices.

I am in awe of the human mind.

Guess what?

I showered and dressed myself today!

Yeah, that is what just rocked my world

Barry

PS… I just changed this blog so you can leave comments if you’d like.  I’ve gotten so many great e-mails from friends around the world, but please feel free to leave them here on this blog!

I meant to write last night… there was so much good to share. But right before I was going to write, I wanted to take care of something that I had been meaning to do for the last few days — update my Netflix list. One of the movies I have, Mr. Rogers at the Circus, I’ve had since June 06! Suffice it to say that Netflix likes having us as customers.

So I go to the site, start to move movies around, and then I see this link: Watch Movies Online Now!

You’ve got to be kidding me?! (Yes folks, this blog entry will dwell in the shallow end)

Now I’m in my prone position with a notebook computer in my lap and a wireless connection to my cable modem, and my mind instantly deduces that the quality of the picture and audio will be horrendous. WRONG!! I brought up something lightweight just to check the quality (Ron White: They Tall Me ‘Tater Salad) and it was perfect — and funny! I sat in my chair and cracked up — big belly laughs that actually hurt — for 60 minutes. Good medicine.

Annie came in right when it was finishing and I told her how amazing it was. As we scanned the catalog of available movies, we felt like a couple of rednecks in the middle of an old-growth forest with brand-new chainsaws! (Sorry for the analogy — can’t spend an hour with Ron White and not have your vibrational level lowered to some extent) We settled on a film that we had wanted to see for a while (The World’s Fastest Indian) and enjoyed the first hour of it before pausing it to go to sleep. The moral the story is, if you’re a member of a program, log onto their website at least once a year to see what new offerings they have.

And now we return to yesterday’s blog entry

I was so honored to feel something that greatly humbled me yesterday: I believe I felt my nerves rerouting themselves! Now if there’s a doctor out there saying, “This guy is on crack”, let me know, but here’s what I believe I felt. Every 10 or 15 minutes for most of the day, I would feel what could best be described as a firm pinprick in my middle or ring finger. It didn’t hurt so much as amuse me. It was exciting to feel something so definite in these areas that have been numb since the accident. Is it possible that the nerves are rerouting, sending a signal, and making sure my brain feels the signal? My numbing yesterday was down about 20% and it felt so good. The very tips still feel like pieces of meat, but the feeling is moving higher and I’m getting all kinds of those little signal checks today as well.

I got such a wonderful e-mail message from my father-in-law who put some new perspective into my thinking:

“I was just musing that after a major impact with the ground resulting in a smashed shoulder, tingling could be good – better than the alternative of – nothing.”

Amen! Although I wasn’t, sometimes I tend to operate like a guy who was born in Missouri — The Show Me State. I hadn’t even gone there in my mind. I should be dancing on the ceiling (will my sling still work?) that I have tingling! This just donned on me, I’m pretty sure my father in law was born in Missouri! It’s all coming together now.

Did a ton of hand therapy with the Play-Doh while we were watching the movies and that has to be the best thing I could do. Keeping ice on the shoulder, eating a lot of Bone Up calcium, eating Chinese herbs my acupuncturist gave me, and keeping the arm supported in the sling — it was a very good day for healing.

Our good friend Catherine brought over such a yummy dinner and as she was leaving, snow in the Sierra foothills began to fall hard. We were hoping she’d get up our long driveway and home safely. Annie and Zed went to play and build snowmen, bury treasure, and have a snowball fight and I enjoyed watching through the window.

A tree fell over and took down the power lines at one friend’s house, then our dear friend called with the unfortunate results of her biopsy, and other close friends called to tell us that their baby boy had been born.

More perspective.

Life is a roller coaster, friends, and the more involved in it you are, the more twists, turns, and loop-the-loops you experience.

The first snowman of 2007 — on February 28!
Was Al Gore right?

I met with a new doctor yesterday for evaluation, followed by treatment.

Here’s the best and worst thing about being in a relationship with someone for over 20 years: they are the on the spot, no holds barred, don’t even try and BS truth detector you can ever have. And that comes in either handy, or inconvenient. Handy if you think you did something really well and they show up to issue a much-needed reality check. Inconvenient if you were me yesterday.

I slacked on my blog.

It’s not the crime of the century, but I got busted big time by the one that counts.

Seeing as my arm is hanging on by a couple millimeters of bone marrow, she took it easy on me. But when it comes to writing, we’ve always been brutally honest with each other. Thank God.

“What I love about your writing is that you always create something, poke it in the belly with a knife, and let us see what’s inside. Last night you had no knife.”

Of course, she’s right. Doing a blog means that you think you have something to say that is worthy of the time somebody will spend to read it. If it doesn’t pass that test, it’s called a journal entry and it should be saved on your hard drive. It’s why just about everybody who’s ever self-published a book has a garage full of inventory, it probably wouldn’t have passed the test.

Of course all this preamble begs the question, “why didn’t I just go in and fix yesterday’s entry?”. I thought about it. I opened the file, read through it, realized how right Anne was, and then closed the file knowing that I wasn’t going to heal this thing by cheating myself out of the lessons it offers. That was the mistake I made yesterday, I have no desire to make it again today.

In a blog you’re the subject, author, editor, and publisher — truly a form of journalism without a check and balance system. The whole idea seems a little narcissistic, in fact, unless the goal of the text is to offer the reader some enrichment. Well tonight, I’m pulling out my stone, sharpening my knife, and whittling us a direct path to the my core.

So yesterday I said it was a “pretty tough night”. Hell, I wish it was a ‘tough night’. I laid there for two hours, alone, in tears, trying to get the negative thoughts and images out of my head. I don’t even remember it ending — all of a sudden it was 7:00 a.m., and people were waking up. I tried to imagine how I’d ever be able to tighten this right-handed grip again. In the middle of the night the Angels that tell you ‘everything is going to be okay’ are nowhere to be found. I couldn’t even force an image into my head that looked like me juggling again. It was apathy — no, even worse — it was pessimism.

I have put off holding a juggling prop since the accident. I thought about trying to hold something — a club, a ball, anything that might give me some scale of comparison for how messed up I am. I held off because I wasn’t ready for the answer. Spontaneously picking up that juggling ball turned out to be the worst thing I could have done. I wasn’t ready for the results of the comparison.

While pussyfooting around the painful stuff, I skipped right over the good stuff. Watching Zed, who turns five next month, instantly adapt to his new physical relationship with me, has been nothing short of astounding. He comes over to me with as much energy as ever, but a control that I have never seen before kicks in at about 2 feet away. He places both hands gently on either side of my shoulder, closes his eyes, and tells me he’s fixing it. He was leaving my bedroom today, got to the door, and said, “I have to come let you out of the chair!”. That’s a five-year-old stepping out of the id without prompting. At night he had me sit down on the couch and performed a juggling show for me right before he went to bed. All by himself, laughing so hard, throwing and catching and spinning and floating objects around his body.

Lots to be thankful for — sorry I left out the dessert.

Contemplating my shallow comments about ‘keeping a positive attitude about recovery’, I realize how ridiculous that is. I’ve never had to think about recovery. I certainly never had a positive attitude that I hope to ‘keep’. Discover one? Pray for one? Create one? Let me try these on. If I’m lucky and persistent, I’ll be able to squeeze into one. I can’t keep something I never had — that’s crazy talk. Man, I was totally phoning in that paragraph. Slam dunk for Annie!

And just when I thought I was going to stop testing this hand, Denise brought over such a present. This very pliable Play-Doh that she made for me. For all the bad information the beanbag ball gave me, this stuff offers hope. I have barely put it down today! I can squeeze through the entire range of motion — feeling my nerves building, reconnecting, strengthening.

We had these delicious vegan tamales for dinner tonight, courtesy of Julie and Mark. More thanks to our community for the unending support through this time.

Surrounding myself with light to fend off the darkness… goodnight.

Well recovery fans, I had a pretty tough night.  For some reason I picked up a beanbag ball and started squeezing it.  My right hand has almost no grip strength!  I have to be somewhat realistic and mention that I just left the hospital yesterday after surgery, but that was quite a shock to pick up a ball, squeeze it, and not see its shape change very much.

I went to sleep without any pain medication because, get this, I wasn’t really in any pain.  I didn’t realize how much that actually helps me sleep.  I woke up around midnight wishing it was 6 a.m. — what was I going to do for the next six or seven hours?  I went to try and lay on the couch — just for variety sake.  I did fall asleep kind of on my back, kind of on my side, with my arm jammed against the couch.  Man, this blog just made a royal dive into the boring pool.

So, what I’m trying to say is, I have to keep a positive and realistic about recovery. Nights are going to be hard, I have to be mentally prepared for that.  And boy, if the tingling feeling in my fingers goes away, it’ll be a lot easier to exist with the slow recovery.  I remember last night wondering what it would be like to have this tingle for the rest of my life?  That was not one of the high moments.

More great community support this morning to our family — thanks Andrea for the killer pancakes and carrot juice.  Great visits from three other families who stopped by and made us laugh for a while.

The journey continues, right?

We have to be at the hospital at 6:15 a.m.so we set the alarm for 530. We stayed up a little bit late watching a movie called Being Julia. It was really good — that Annette Benning can do no wrong on the screen.

The strangest thing about getting a surgery is that suddenly you’re a visitor in these people’s world. They do this every day: the paperwork, the blood tests, the shaving… it’s only new to you. For better or for worse, I am unable to take anything too seriously. I have to go for the laugh… it’s just my DNA. And today was no exception. I think it made their world just a little bit more fun, hearing the laughter sure made it all easier.

The anesthesiologist interviewed me for a few moments and I told him he should go the rest of the way and shave his head. He said that was a good idea, but he said he felt around on his head and he feels some lumps and divots. But he said mine looks so good he was going to consider it. They wheeled me into the operating room (much smaller than they look on TV) and popped a large needle into the back of my hand. I looked up at the soon-to-be bald anesthesiologist, and saw him holding a syringe. He told me the next time I open my eyes it would all be over and I would be in a different room. He was so right!

I open my eyes and saw a clock upon the wall, it wasn’t 7:30 a.m. anymore. It was 2 p.m.. How time flies when you’re having your collarbone repaired. The surgery took place in what they call a “beach chair” position. I envy the maturity and control they show by getting you all doped up, strapping you into this ridiculous position, and then not covering you in costumes and face paint, and putting your picture up on the Internet. It was the last image I had before I dozed off — how sick is that?

I got wheeled into room 111, and I was still pretty disoriented. The doctor told me they didn’t administer any narcotics during the surgery, just the anesthesia. I had taken a couple of Norco 10s at 4 a.m. so as far as just a muscle relaxant, they carried me through. Once I was left alone in the room the first thing six I did was straighten my arm. NO shooting pain!!! I knew from that second on I was going to be okay — better than okay — I was going to get better fast.

Annie came in a few minutes later and I told her that I didn’t have shooting pains. She may have even been happier than I was about it since she had awoken a few times during the last week to the sound of me screaming at the top of my lungs. Anatomy lesson number one: stop poking a nerve bundle with a broken bone and the shooting pains go away. Good lesson.

Dr. Soto came in about a half hour later and told me how well it had gone. He had a few x-rays of my collarbone with the pin down the center of the three pieces — they are all lined up and touching like a shish kebab. Now my job is to keep my arm supported and let the magic of bone regrowth go to work, he told me. Annie went down to the cafeteria and got us some really yummy turkey and provolone sandwiches. The nurses were surprised I was eating so well after surgery, but I was just feeling so good about not having shooting pains, I was celebrating!

Sharon came by to visit while Annie and I were hanging out, and that was so nice. A couple hours later Brad brought Timothy and Zed by and we all had such a nice visit. Annie then ran over to Tortilla Grill and brought me back a nice chicken Caesar salad. We hung out a little longer and then Annie had the brainstorm to go to the gym and work out. What a great idea! She had been taking care of everyone else for the week and it made me so happy to think about her going to do this for herself. It was 7:30 p.m. and I had to figure out how I was going to spend the next 12 hours lying in a bed when I felt so good.

I won’t bore you with the details, but I did have a nice chat with a guy behind a curtain who I never saw (the 32-year-old with a new hip that he earned by destroying his original one while playing on a quad runner), got up to pee a lot, and tried sucking any entertainment I could off a 5 inch color TV that was less than a foot from my face. That didn’t last long. Around 10 o’clock the nurse offered me a couple of pain pills and I thought that might just be the ticket to sleeping. BINGO.

All right, so broken bones and surgeries are no longer the domain of other people. Been there, done that. I wouldn’t mind if it was the only time in my life that I have to go through this.

I’ve had to cancel a couple weeks worth of shows and that is a bummer. As soon as I could possibly work again is a show I have in Austin, Texas on April 3. Over the next couple weeks I will meet with the surgeon and we will do x-rays and assess my condition. Right now I can’t imagine lifting my arms to juggle, but I am going to take this healing business seriously, and come back as fast as possible. Oh, and the bike — yeah, I have to get back on that thing real fast.

I will keep this blog going with descriptions of recovery… I hope it will be of comfort to others who are going through this process.

Barry

I’m smiling, but it’s taking all I got.

I can’t wait till tomorrow. Annie and I will be up very early and arrive at the hospital at 6:15 in the morning, and the surgery will begin at 7:30. I have to tell you, today was a tough day. It’s four days after the accident and I am really ready for this thing to be straightened out so the healing can begin. I was so NOT designed to sit in a chair all day. Sitting here has made me realize how active I am during my waking hours.

I read about 20 blogs today from different people around the world who have had this injury and operation. It’s been so helpful to get that first person insights on the process from so many different people. I definitely plan to posts my postoperative progress reports because reading those, as I have been over the last few days, have greatly helped me visualize my immediate future. I hope one day this blog will serve someone else.

I am posting a couple of drawings that Zed made for me today. He so loves drawing… he definitely got that from Annie, as he already draws better than I do. He asked me what I wanted him to draw. I told him the vase with five colorful flowers, five minutes later he came in with this.

Then we were talking about the operation and he told me he wanted to go draw something. He came back with this one of me dancing in the rain, under a colorful cloud, with both my arms up high.

It’s nice to have a fan!

Pain-wise, today had some serious spikes. Some while I was awake, and some out of nowhere –ZAPPPPPPP! A straight shot from the elbow to the palm of the hand with what feels like a high-voltage blast. I had another one while I was taking a daytime nap… successfully transitioning me from sleep to screaming in half a second. I’ve never really experienced a shooting pain, although I hear about them once in awhile… read about them in a book or magazine. I have a new appreciation for the precision of the human body. That these are possible, yet we do not have them more often, is just a brilliant design.

I feel obliged, although she’s told me not to, to publicly thank Annie for another day of love and support. Day and night she takes care of everything — and still with a smile. She gets practice running the whole show when I’m on the road, but to have to do it while I’m sitting here? Some of you know this but let me tell the others, I am not a great patient!

I’m a picky piece to work.

I imagine the only thing worse than having to pull up somebody’s pants, is having them become obsessed about the underwear being perfectly aligned with the pant line, and both being lifted together and to the same height. Don’t ask — she’s an angel.

I want to thank Denise so much for bringing over a wonderful dinner tonight. It was delicious and nutritious and full of carbohydrates to bulk me up for tomorrow’s surgery. Denise and Shannon so generously organized dinners to be made for us for the next couple weeks while I recover. We love this community so much — such friendship and compassion — living examples of what we teach our children.

Well, my operation starts in 12 hours and Annie and I are going to watch a movie tonight. I want to make sure I get 14 hours sleep before the surgery so a two-hour movie works out just right — Fuzzy math — I think the pain pills are taking over!

Barry

What a great night’s sleep! I laid in one position on the lazy boy chair for 12 straight hours, courtesy of my new friend Norco 10. These are tiny pills but boy, do they pack a punch. I placed an 8 pound sand bag over my fingers of my right hand to make sure that no matter what I was doing in my dream, I didn’t move my hand and cause a shooting pain. I felt great this morning, well, except for the right arm which I expect will be better immediately after surgery. Those broken bones pushing on the nerves are not part of the master plan.