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It’s a good omen when I start getting cranky about things.  The crankier I am, the more well I am. So I’m going to allow myself some self-indulgence and stray from the medical information and vent a bit on the things that are irritating me the most. (apologies to those looking for more information on shoulder replacement surgery) As they say, it’s not the big things, it’s the little things  in life.

  • My hair. I got my hair cut really short since I am going to be one-handed for a while. Not only did the stylist cut it too short, he cut it badly. Think of Telly Savalas on a bad hair day. Actually, it’s grown the past week and now I look like either a refugee from a concentration camp or a chemo ward. Or maybe if they had chemo wards in the concentration camps. Think about what if Mia Farrow had really gotten a short haircut for Rosemary’s Baby. The bad part is that as soon as I’m able, I have to renew my drivers license so I will live with this friggin haircut for the next 2-4 years.
  • Sleeping sitting up. This doesn’t bother some people. Put my husband in an airline seat and he’s asleep before the plane pulls away from the gate. Not me. I’ve never been able to sleep sitting up — which is why it wears me out to travel. I also like sleeping on my side which obviously I can’t do yet. My back is starting to bother me from spending so much time in the same propped up position. Fortunately, they prescribed lots of drugs.
  • Drugs. Okay, the drugs do good things and I can’t complain about that. But I hate being fuzzy-headed and I miss a glass of wine with dinner and I don’t like being on a schedule and I don’t like being nauseous and I don’t like the major GI clogging ability that narcotics have. I want to get off these drugs and get back on the ones that help my arthritis like my Humira and my Celebrex.
  • Not being able to clean my house. My husband is a great caretaker. He frets and fusses and spoils me with the best of them. However, we are polar opposites when it comes to cleanliness, and even though he means well and does make an effort, the growing levels of trash, clutter and dust/grease are starting to bug me. To top it off, my cleaning lady is off having her fifth (count ’em – five) baby. We have a substitute coming in tomorrow so hopefully both my sanity and my marriage will be saved. To Jack’s credit, he has to run a company as well as put up with me, so he gets lots of gold stars. But it still bugs me that I can’t take out the trash when the level bugs me.
  • Being an employee. When I had my hip surgery, I was still a consultant, so I complete control over my insurance, over when I worked or didn’t work, etc. Now that I’m an employee I am working with an HR staff that I swear are doing whatever they can to make my life difficult and ensure claims/disability payments don’t come through. I also have to have reports to my employer on my return to work status and that’s been cross wise a couple of times.
  • Not being in control. Okay, they all come down to this one. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a micro-managing control freak and not having control over my life to do what I want/need to do when and how I want is worse than making me brush my teeth with vinegar three times a day. It’s just a constant second-class citizen feeling. I’m no longer a person, I’m a patient and it makes me nuts.

That’s probably the short list, but I have lambasted you enough. What I do enjoy and what I am truly grateful for is the warm thoughts and great friends that come to the forefront at times like this. I appreciate all the love and good wishes. They far outweigh the piddly things that irritate me and I can’t say “thank you” enough.