is this scar making me whole?

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” – Rumi

Just over three months ago, I fell down the long, narrow, hardwood staircase in our old house and broke my right shoulder. “Shattered” was actually the word the medical people used, which told me it was pretty serious. My pleas for no surgery fell on deaf ears (thankfully, as there was apparently no healing without such intervention.) So, now I’m the proud bearer of a shoulder full of “hardware” as the medical people call it - two plates and nine long screws. The x-ray is scary to look at.

Before this mess with my shoulder, I had never been in the hospital – not even to have my kids. They were born at home with skilled and licensed midwives (this was back in the Hippie days…) There was a doctor standing by, but he was not needed. Due to good health, good habits and germophobic behavior that rivals Howard Hughes,’ no one in my family has been to the doctor much. We’re just not “doctor people” and so far, with a few minor exceptions, the Good Lord has blessed us with being able to carry on that way.

So, you can imagine how all this shoulder havoc affected me – poorly, very poorly. Suddenly I was someone I never thought I’d be, someone I almost didn’t recognize. I was this person with multiple medications and way too many medical and physical therapy appointments, barely able to move my right arm (I am right handed,) living in near constant pain. Oh! Woe was me!

Obviously this is no way to live, but with time and some admittedly lack luster efforts on my part, things have improved. I’m off all the meds, am able to do a fair number of things with my right arm again, and have become nearly ambidextrous. I have also learned a lot about the shoulder, in general, and much of it is interesting in an almost Zen-like way.

Did you know the shoulder is the most complex joint and set of corresponding muscles in the body? That’s why shoulder injuries are so difficult to diagnose, treat and recover from. Instead of a ball joint encased in a bone socket, like all of our other joints, the shoulder ball floats freely in a sort of socket made by the muscles of the shoulder, back and arm. That’s why it has such an amazing range of motion – it’s free to swivel every which way, with only the muscles governing its movements - and the way they do so turns out to be quite complex.  

The muscles all work together in an intricately orchestrated way, so when something happens to one of them, the others react by trying to compensate. In the case of a major injury, such as mine, the muscles, first traumatized, then immobilized, shut down. After a few weeks, they stop “talking” to each other. They form a tense, protective ball around the injured area and stay that way. Then, they actually forget how to communicate, so they can’t work together at all; hence, the need for physical therapy.

My therapist says what we’re doing, during our biweekly time together, is not only working on strengthening the muscles, but also helping them learn to “talk” to each other again, which is turning out to be an elusive task. I’m making good progress on the strength exercises, but the mobility ones aren’t going so well. I believe that’s because my cranky shoulder and its cranky muscles don’t want to communicate yet. They’re like a bad family on a long car trip - it’s not going well and no one’s having fun.       

Part of this probably has to do with my attitude. Spoiled as it may be, (I realize there are people struggling with very real medical challenges that put my little shoulder issue to shame…) I’ve been so resentful of all this that I’ve not applied myself to the process of healing - as in it’s MY process and if I don’t participate, I’m not going to heal. I’ve been so busy feeling sorry for myself that I’ve not paid much attention to the process of getting better and I am getting better, at a surprisingly steady pace, in spite of myself.

If the Good Lord gives you what you can handle, my theory that I’m a weakling holds true with this shoulder thing. I’ve been so busy bemoaning my fate I’ve not focused on the bright side, which is, it could be worse, a lot worse.

Add to my New Year’s resolution list, “Get squared away attitude-wise so those tight-lipped, balled-up, stubborn muscles can start communicating again.” China Mieville wrote in The Scar,

“Scars are not injuries. A scar is healing. After injury, a scar is what makes you whole.”  I’ve got a big ole’ scar on my right shoulder and it’s time to see it as the healing it is, rather than the burden and reminder it has been.

it turns out money can buy happiness...

“Plants want to grow; they are on your side as long as you are reasonably sensible.”- Anne Wareham

It turns out money can buy happiness. I just spent $86 plus shipping on two grow lights, each with a nifty adjustable stand and I believe this purchase is going to change my life. You see, I am a gardener and last year I switched from buying plants to growing seeds. It was a big adjustment and, quite frankly, a pain in the you know what, but by the end of the season my garden looked so good and was so productive that I became a seed convert.

The quality and hardiness of the plants was much better than those often sad and disease-prone vegies, herbs and flowers I used to get at the big box stores. And, paying about $3 for each 3-inch peat pot plant makes a $2 pack of seeds look like a real bargain. Plus, with seeds, I had so many plants that I could be generous in giving them away.  

The problem with seeds is that they take a lot of fussing; hence, the grow light purchase. Last year I started my seeds in mid-February in these spiffy things I found online called Biodomes. The Biodomes came filled with handy little seed starting cubes and a booklet featuring detailed instructions and some glossy photos of hardy, healthy plants. Boy! Was I inspired!

When the seeds began sprouting it became clear the window the Biodomes were sitting by didn’t provide enough light. Within days, the seedlings became leggy, spindly and bent, exhausted in their effort to reach for the sun.

That led to me move the Biodomes from window to window during the day, so as to maximize the light for my poor baby plants. That worked well enough until it was time to put the little guys in bigger pots. Then, instead of carting two Biodomes around the house, I had to tote several too-easily-bendable foil or plastic trays of peat pots around, spilling water and dirt along the way.      

By the time it became time to “harden” my plants by putting them outside during the day and bringing them back in at night, I had WAY too many plants and a WAY inadequate way to move them about. Plus, I had the same problem with the porches I had with the windows – not enough light. That resulted in a daily routine of plant tray shifting that had gotten on my last nerve by the time it was time to actually plant the little fellas in the garden. If it’s true that plants react to the energy around them, it’s a miracle any of my plants survived. But, survive they did and thrive.

The garden grew so quickly and beautifully that I began to pat myself on the back, such a successful gardener was I! So, you can imagine my thrill when the seed catalogues started appearing in my mailbox on those cold December days.     

But, as I sat by the cozy fireplace, perusing those colorful pages, dreaming and dog-earing, so many exciting prospects, a sense of dread set in. Is it really time to start fussing with seeds again? When the orders arrived and Mr. Clark got out the Biodomes again, my heart sank. “I really can’t face this seed nonsense again!” was my secret and silent cry…

Because we’ve been married a long time, and because he’s a decent guy, Mr. Clark sensed a “disturbance in the force” and asked why I wasn’t excited about the seeds. I told him and within minutes, he had researched and priced grow lights and peat pot toting trays. Kaboom! Problem solved.

This year my seeds will sprout and grow in their Biodomes, sitting in one spot, under the grow light’s glow. When it’s time to transplant them, I’ll have some sturdy trays to put the peat pots in and they, too, will sit in one spot, in the glow of the other grow light. Then, when it’s time to “harden” my little buddies, I’ll move them to a really keen, four shelf “green house” that will stand in the sunniest spot of our sunniest porch. No more in and out of the house, just drop the plastic walls at night and Viola! hardened plants. I’m all done with the toting, dragging and cussing. No more bad energy flying at my little plants. It’s all ease and convenience this year…I’ll admit, the cost was closer to $150, but it’s money well spent.    

I’m excited about gardening this year. I planted my first round of seeds; they’re starting to come up and they look really good so far.  Seeds hold such promise and I get so much pleasure from watching them sprout and grow. Gardening is like a lot of things - it takes patience, practice, research and a willingness to make mistakes. But, the rewards reaped and the lessons learned make it well worth the while.   

I used to struggle with depression this time of year - nothing to look forward to, everything so dreary and cold – but, no longer. I found the optimism I need to get me through to spring in the pages of seed catalogues and in those tiny bright green plants, just starting to peek over the edge of their Biodomes, warm and happy under the glow of those wonderful new grow lights.