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.