Shouldering Up

“He will order an MRI, recommend PT, and then set you up for surgery.”

That was Barb’s prediction when I finally succumbed to chronic shoulder pain and scheduled a visit with the orthopedic surgeon that my internist had recommended. A few months of retirement with its excessive tennis, pickleball, bowling, golf, and biking had done what 45 years of twiddling a microscope fine focus knob had not and sent me off to a specialist.

I was barely able to raise my right arm without pain — I could forget about trying to serve a tennis ball. During our Germany journey, it was rough getting our carry-on bags into the overhead compartments on our many flights. And Cooper’s tugging at his leash during our long walks sent shock waves through my right arm.

The orthopod and his Physician’s Assistant followed Barb’s prediction to a tee. After they completed a quick examination and asked me a few questions, they told me I had some rotator cuff damage. Their prescription: get an MRI, get some physical therapy, and then get back to us for future plans.

As expected, the MRI showed a bit of structural wear and tear in my shoulder, but nothing excessively dramatic. So off I went to a small private physical therapy office recommended by a friend, located across the street from my internist.

I have spent the last month going to PT twice a week. The first visit consisted of lots of assessment of arm movements and levels of pain. Since then, therapy has consisted of lots of shoulder and neck massage, strengthening exercises, and a home workout regimen.

And none of it was working. My shoulder didn’t feel any better, and my neck and arm started to feel worse. I was about to tell the therapist that I was not going to schedule any further sessions when out of the blue, he said “Let’s try a few things we haven’t done yet.” It was “Hail, Mary” time.

He began with a technique called scraping, running a dull-edged blade against my upper shoulder. It was pleasant but didn’t feel therapeutic. My shoulder felt the same. But then came the coup de grâce–dry needling. While I quaked in my shoes, my PT inserted a needle into the tender points in my shoulder twiddling it around, looking for muscle twitches.

He found them. As he repeated the needle insertion in three different spots, I could feel my muscles jerking, sometimes painfully. My right hand began trembling uncontrollably. And when it was done, I felt…better.

That was three days ago. I feel some soreness as a result of the needling. I have a bit of residual tightness, which a remarkable device called the Thera Cane is helping resolve. But my shoulder is almost pain-free and I can literally reach for the sky.

I will schedule follow-ups with the PT and the orthopedic surgeon. But right now the sun is shining and it is a beautiful day.

Tennis, anyone?

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