In the 1940's my father marched his four small children off to the hospital for tonsil removal.
It was, I feel, a "package deal" and I don't know which of us sad little victims needed it. They
used ether then. I decided I really had no interest in a repeat performance...ever!
But in this, my 73rd year, I heard the doctor say: "You're looking at surgery."
I was walking on Berwick Street, and distracted by shrubbery, fell off the curb. I went down
like the Titanic! They spatuladed me into the ambulance and eight weeks later came the surgery. A
full shoulder replacement. I am bionic! They know their stuff at Mass. General and I got the use
of my right arm back.
Now comes the therapy. I feel very fortunate.
So take care, be careful. We have lots of winter left and lots of ice and snow ahead.
P.S. I suppose there is no word "spatuladed" but bear with me. I haven't been well.
February 1, 2013