Life is one painful day after another, or actually one painful night after another. I am unable to sleep more than a few hours at a time and have to keep the head of the bed raised to sleep at all.

I am trying to do as much as possible for myself to avoid being a burden. I have mastered transferring to a wheelchair, which gives me mobility at home, at least. I still cannot reach things while seated, but manage by hanging on to the kitchen counter in the morning to make a cup of coffee.

I am able to get in our extra high SUV now using a little stool and hopping. This sounds small but it is huge as I have to be able to get in the car for doctor appointments. I am super cautious about everything as I could not get up if I fell.

It has not taken long for things to go south on the home front. My son is in charge of yard work that I normally do, like weeding the flowers. He did the backyard, but forgot the front.

I’ve been seeing a lot of doctors. First there were the paramedics, who don’t count even though they spent more time with me than anyone. Next in line was the trauma doctor who x-rayed me and said I had a broken shoulder. I could have told him that, but he had to diagnose me, I suppose, to justify the large fee they will charge me for the ER. Bouncy, bouncy.

He referred me to my GP who was too busy to see me unless I could wait 6 months — but I could see his intern. Bouncy, bouncy. The intern asked me tons of questions unrelated to my broken shoulder. Then my GP dropped in to say hi and tell me to see an orthopedic doctor. Bouncy, bouncy.

The ortho doctor wanted a copy of my x-rays — not a big deal unless you are in a wheelchair like me and have to go back to the hospital to get them.

The orthopedic doc (who fixed my previously broken wrist) was happy to see me again and told me how good I looked for my age, an expensive compliment. He told me that the bone that was broken was the humerus. It didn’t seem very humorous to me. He no longer does surgery on shoulders, he says, and I should see his colleague. Bouncy, bouncy.

So I went to the orthopedic shoulder surgeon, who said I had a broken shoulder. Is there an echo? I am pretty sure I have heard that before. I do not need surgery as it will heal well enough on its own. I might lose some functionality, but I am an old lady, not a baseball pitcher or violinist. Plus I need to go to physical therapy, Bouncy, bouncy.

One good thing about a broken shoulder is I don’t have to cook dinner or clean house. I do get a bit hungry for lunch, and even a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is a major undertaking with one arm. I sometimes make a messes, like spilling Splenda when making coffee. Honey says the Splenda is what attracted ants. Ants like sugar substitute? I wondered why they were so skinny.

So, I’ve been watching a lot of TV and surfing Facebook and TicToc. Fortunately, it is possible to use a computer mouse left-handed, even when you can’t do much else.

I wanted a snack and asked Alexa to make me a sandwich. She said, “Okay, you’re a sandwich.” Smart alec AI. Seri said a sandwich was beyond her abilities at the moment.

Me too, Seri, me too.

C 2023 Sheila Moss