Since Halloween I've had adhesive capsulitis in my right shoulder. Otherwise known as frozen shoulder. It's the fucking pits. And yes, Dad, it's real.
My shoulder was acting really weird and painful for a few weeks when I was ordered by my doctor to pretty much stop moving so I could heal from some random ass back injury. I pulled a back muscle twisting from the waist (God, I feel so fucking old typing that.) and my doctor said no twisting or USING MY BACK for six weeks, gave me horse pill ibuprofen and muscle relaxers. I thought, well at least since I can't do anything for six weeks (and that included not standing up straight for about two weeks) and I'm taking all this anti-inflammatory shit- my shoulder should be fine when I can start working out again.
Here comes Christmas. All of a sudden I can't put weight on my right hand without my arm shaking. I can't put my right hand behind my back. I wake up at night from pain. It hurts when I'm not moving and if I were to do anything with my right arm pain shoots from my shoulder socket down to my wrist. Seriously uncomfortable. Downright painful. THE WORST.
I go back to the doctor. She orders an MRI. I get one. Results come in. I'm told I have a tear. I freak out. I cry a bunch. What does this mean? I make an appointment with an orthopedist shoulder dude. He's kind of a dick. He tells me about this frozen shoulder thing. Tells me I have to go to physical therapy two to three times a week for six weeks and that I CAN'T DO ANY EXERCISE THAT USES MY ARMS. Makes a follow-up appointment. I hate this guy.
Six weeks later I still can't use my arm. It hurts and I can't actually do anything. I thought I'd try a plank move to work on my core last week and because my arm can't support me, I flopped around like a mermaid trying to use an exercise ball. My physical therapist says I can do the elliptical and run. Ok. Fine. The only problem is- my schedule only allows for morning workouts. But because I can't sleep without waking from pain and I wake up in pain, the last thing I want to do is move let alone workout.
It is getting better, though. I've had some relatively pain-free mornings lately so I've started running again a little. But I think my liver is done with the 2400 milligrams of ibuprofen a day. I know I'm done with the not sleeping. I'm just done.
All of the harrumphing aside progress is progress. But I still can't strap my bra in the back. That's my final goal.