I turned 45 the other day and as an early birthday present I gave myself a not so gentle reminder that I'm getting to that age. The age of unintended consequences. It started out simple enough, I've been doing renos on our house in La Paz getting it ready for our friends to move in. I've had a year to do them but I also had a friend who is a painter coming down this month and he had told me he would bring his sprayer down and we could paint the house then. So I waited. I had a few other things to take care of before painting and I spent a few days a week in La Paz doing them for a couple weeks prior to his arrival and once I returned to San Jose after a couple long days of driving and working I just felt depleted. I didn't even want to take the dogs to the beach, it didn't matter what it was I just had “I don't wanna” in my heart. Of course I fought through it and went to the beach, did the usual chores around the house tried my damnedest to soldier on cause thats what you do. My life is not difficult I was rebelling against activities that I would normally find enjoyable, but couple it with some tiring labour and poor sleep and I just wasn't into it.
So finally my desire to do nothing turned into a reality of unable to do anything, even that which I wanted to do like be comfortable. After months of hearing a clunk in the driveline of my wife's truck I finally wised up and jacked the rear end up off the ground to inspect the driveshaft. I'd checked the driveshaft multiple times already without jacking the rear end up and had not been able to feel or hear any play in any of the u joints but clearly I was inspecting it wrong. The worn part was immediately apparent once the rear wheels were suspended and the transmission was in neutral. Thinking of it now I probably could have just put it in neutral and saved myself the hassle of jacking the truck up. I'm not a mechanic however even if I once played one in a shop. I know the basics and can YouTube the rest but a lot of the time I've simply thrown parts at the problem indiscriminately until it went away. Often times it might have been cheaper to pay the professional from the get go instead of muddling my way through it, but that's how you learn right. This time however, even though I have changed many u joints in the past I decided that it would be better. Not a big deal.
The shop is 4.8 km from the house so I loaded my bike in the back with the plan on riding home after I dropped it off. All went smoothly, the first 1.8 km was through the residential area, I had to slow down a few times to avoid being chased by street dogs but there wasn't any traffic and it was all down hill. The highway was another story. It's a four lane highway with a shoulder wide enough on either side to be used as a lane, and it is used as such. The speed limit is only 50km/h as its running through the commercial section of town here but no one ever goes the posted speed, the do what they can. So instead of being able to ride my BMX on the wide paved shoulder I was forced to the very edge where it's all broken blacktop, potholes and sand. Disaster struck early. No sooner then getting on the highway, riding downhill at a pretty fast clip, was a forced to the edge by passing motorists. I didn't even see it coming, I hit the ground hard on my left shoulder the felt the left side of my head connect with the pavement. I saw my phone fly from my pocket over my head and my bike rushing up behind me. My teeth slammed together, head bounced off the asphalt, my shoulder crumpled under the impact as I slid to a halt on my belly. My first instinct was to roll over and touch my head just to check for blood, there was none and I thought to myself that it was time to start wearing a helmet again. I fact that I wasn't bleeding, spitting out teeth or struggling for consciousness seemed a miracle. I rolled over, struggled to my feet and found my phone, passersby and witnesses hollered at me to see if I was okay. I waved them off and checked my pockets, tucking my phone back into one. My hat and glasses had come off in the crash so I gathered them up and stuck them back on my head, wincing as I touched the bruise that was now starting to throb. My left shoulder didn't feel right as I climbed back on my bike and began to roll down the hill and I thought maybe it was dislocated, I could here a crunch and feel a pop when I moved it. I'd run my hand across my clavicle checking to make sure it wasn't broken and it seemed okay but I knew something was wrong. I quickly got off the bike as I realized there was no way I was going to be able to continue to ride.
It was a 3km walk home and every step jostled my shoulder hanging loosely in it's socket. I tried my best to keep it tucked into my hoodie resting against the zipper that was opened to below my chest. I knew that there was something wrong with it but I was worried that if I figured out what it was I wouldn't want to continue. I figured that I might have a concussion and that that eventually the shock would wear off and I wouldn't be able to continue at that point so I just kept walking. If it wasn't for the bicycle I could've ordered an uber or got on a bus but I didn't know what to do about my bike so I forced myself to walk. At one point a police truck passed me and I thought about flagging it down to ask for a lift but they motored on down the road as I watched in pain. There was a radiology clinic on the way not too far from my house and I seriously thought about stopping to get an x-ray knowing that something wasn't right with my shoulder, I even went as far as climbing the steps and going to the front door, but they were closed. With little options at that point I could do nothing but continue. I got to the point on the highway where I was to turn off and head up the hill the last three or so blocks to the house but kitty corner to that road is a hospital so I walked to the crosswalk and stood staring at it while traffic streamed by. It's the fancy private hospital for rich gringos with health insurance though and I am not one of those, so after a short debate with myself over the seriousness of my injury I once again decided that I couldn't leave my BMX outside the doors without risk of it being stolen and turned to trudge the final distance home.
Once I got through the gate I realized that I had made a mistake. I had left a load of laundry in the washing machine that needed to be hung to dry on the line so I made my way towards the back of the house. To get there I had to pass my truck and I used that opportunity to check my reflexion in it's tinted windows. This let me confirm what i already knew, something was wrong with my shoulder. My clavicle was sticking upwards and my arm was about an inch lower on the left side then the right. My experience with injuries has taught me that they are always worse once you see them with your own eyes, and that held true with the sight of my deformed shoulder. Although my head and teeth hurt more then my shoulder I could verify with my hand and tongue that I was not bleeding and hadn't broken any teeth and so it wasn't that big of a worry, I've concussed myself enough times in my life to know that the headache will eventually go away. I hung up the laundry one handed with no small amount of difficulty and then sent a text to my wife.
Miriam met me outside her office, which is one door down from the house, our living arrangements are a package deal with her job, which is a huge benefit because rent in this town is beyond astronomical and would be completely unaffordable on her salary. Obviously I'd work if I could but due to my immigration status here I am not legally allowed to work yet but even with a second income rent would still not be reasonable. She was more worried about the state of my injuries than I was and we walked down to the expensive hospital rather than taking the time to find recommendations for a cheaper one in the neighbourhood. Having no working vehicle it seemed easier just to go to the one nearby but after receiving the bill I think we could have done ourselves a service by doing a quick google search.
After an X-ray and a CT scan and a short wait for the Orthopedist the diagnosis was clear. No damage to the cranium but a level three separation of the shoulder. I tore both the acromioclavicular and coracoacromial ligaments and would necessitate putting my arm in a sling for three weeks and possible surgery. It sucked. I started writing this one handed shortly after the accident and only now three plus weeks later with both arms free am I finishing it. You never know how difficult life is with only one arm until you find yourself limited to it. Shortly into recovery while googling the injury I realized that I must have already injured my left shoulder in a similar fashion. I still can't remember when it might have happened but I know by looking at older photos of myself that my shoulder had a drop in it before. Not as significant and pronounced as it is now but it was definitely in the wrong place for a long time already. I can remember it giving me problems for most of my life and having to raise my arm over my head to pop it back into place as it would often become dislocated but still for the life of me I can't remember the actual accident that resulted in the deformity. Although considering how little strength I have in my left arm now and how painful it is to use it I seriously wonder how I could forget a period of time when my shoulder felt like this. The power of youth is obviously wasted on the young.
My arm is now free, I can play guitar again and type two handed, it's still sore as hell and droops about an inch below where it should be but I can dress myself and do dishes again. I am looking into surgery to have the shoulder reset to where it should be and the surgeon is looking into the price for me so we shall see. It will probably be another few months before I can use my arm with any kind of force and I will have to religiously do rehab exercises. Of course if I opted for the surgery I'm back to square one, another month with my arm in a sling and then more months of rehab so I guess I need to make that decision sooner rather than later.
What's the moral of this story? Careful what you wish for? Don't pay others to do work that you can do yourself? Keep your eyes on the road? Mexican sidewalks are dangerous? Enjoy what you have, you never know when it will be taken away? All of the above? I don't know. I'm not sure that life is about learning lessons so much as it's about the experience. Nothing has a value good or bad until you give it one, and so you shouldn't be in a rush to label something one way or another. The universe is impartial, nothing is happening to you directly it just happens and sometimes you happen to be where it's happening. I got to watch a bunch of TV and lounge around the house ignoring chores for a while, it was okay at first and grew pretty boring pretty fast. I wouldn't say it showed me what's important in life but to a degree it showed me that I shouldn't take for granted even the simple mundane things like washing dishes and hanging laundry that require two hands to make easier. Will the experience leave me a changed person? I'll definitely be a little slower for a while and I'm still going to chill and watch TV during the day when my shoulder has had enough activity but perhaps it's time to do some of the things that I have been putting off for the future now. There's a few novels that I'd like to write and some songs I've yet to record. I struggle with the idea that I have to do these things solely for myself and that there's a good possibility that no one will ever read them or listen to them and that's okay. I ain't doing it for you, I'm doing it for me, while I still have the time and the ability.