A rare personal note.
The signs were, in retrospect, a sign. Chugging down to Ventura in our biodiesel Jetta on our way to a consultation with an orthopedic surgeon, we passed a road sign telling us there was "shoulder work ahead." No kidding, I thought ruefully. But the next sign did not bode well.
"Right shoulder closed." Which turned out to be my prognosis.
After four months of trying to regain mobility and "unfreeze" my injured shoulder--navigating the patience-testing maze of medical insurance authorizations and protocols in order to get physical therapy, cortisone shots, MRIs and diagnostics--I'm back at square one. Surgery.
It's scheduled for Feb 10. The recovery time will be 2-6 months, depending on how much repair they have to do (which they don't know until they get in there).
Surfing is the single most important way in which I maintint physical, mental and spiritual health. The prospect of extending my time in drydock by another half year is daunting. I went through this before with a neck injury and eventual surgery, which kept me on the shelf for 2 years. But that was 10 years ago. At 62, this has already seemed more discouraging and difficult.
I know. This is hardly a big deal in light of the suffering of poor folk, the coming political shitstorm, the deepening climate crisis, etc. But all the same, personally it's a tough slug. Yet it's what I need to do to get back in the water, in order to regain a semblance of somatic and inner equilibrium needed to keep doing the work we embrace.