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Rollerblades are:
A safe and fun form of exercise 0%
A valid means of transportation 0%
A way to look really silly in the park 25%
A device for keeping orthopedic surgeons in business 75%

Votes: 4

 My Stupid Shoulder (a multi-part saga)

 Author:  Topic:  Posted:
Jul 31, 2001
I know nobody cares about my little orthopedic problems. I'm just indulging in a little public whining.

Part One: The Accident.

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My Stupid Shoulder (Part Two)
My Stupid Shoulder (Part Three)
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Terrorism and root causes
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I enjoy training. I don't call it "working out". A "workout" is what you do when you "train". When you go to the gym, you go to train a specific group of muscles -- "I'm training legs today."

Anyway, I like going to a cheap, hot, loud, scary, dirty gym and doing battle with the force of gravity. Feel free to assume I have a variety of Napoleonic and Freudian complexes.

My training was going well until The Accident. Two years ago I was rollerblading and took a face-first spill going downhill at (for me) high speed. I landed on my hands and the wrist/palm guards did their job. My wrists and palms suffered no damage whatsoever.

The rest of me was a damn mess.

One thigh had road rash from knee to hip. The embedded chunks of gravel made it extra-yummy. Ditto road rash on my back (I rolled). My left shoulder hurt in a funny way.

I decided I was done skating for the day. I unlaced the Wheels of Death from my feet and began the long trek back to the truck so I could drive home. I must have been quite a sight walking in my socks, skates in my hand, and blood running down my leg. A couple of obviously-new unsteady skaters were coming the other way. When they got a look, their wide eyes made it clear they had newfound doubts about their latest hobby.

"Watch out for the curve at the bottom of the hill," I deadpanned in a voice reminiscent of a man with only one arm telling somebody not to feed the tiger.

After one of the longer 15-minute drives of my life, I made it back to my apartment. Several minutes with tweezers and a tub full of lukewarm water solved the gravel and bloody leg problem.

When I stood in front of the mirror to take a damage assessment, I found my problems were just starting. There was a very noticeable discoloration starting on my left bicep. The ugly bruising would definitely keep me from wearing spaghetti straps and tube tops this season, but it wasn't the worst part.

Hold your arm out to your side, perpendicular to your body. Look at where the front of your shoulder attaches to your chest. Chances are you have a little stretch of meat there. It forms the front of your armpit cavity.

I still had the meat on my right shoulder (technically, it's actually part of the pectoralis). The meat on the left side was MIA.

I eventually found the meat -- it was balled up in the center of my left chest muscle.

"Well, that's not right."

I had read about pec tears but figured my liklihood of suffering one was pretty remote. Most of the guys who have had one typically bench about twice my best. I seemed to recall reading somewhere that quick diagnosis and treatment were critical for successful recovery.

"Honey, I've got a little problem. Could you give me a ride to the emergency room?"

To Be Continued....


No offense. (5.00 / 1) (#1)
by TheReverand on Tue Jul 31st, 2001 at 01:25:05 PM PST
But it's your own damn fault. Roller blades should be outlawed at any cost. They are a danger to society.

Guilty of stupidity as charged (none / 0) (#2)
by donkpunch on Tue Jul 31st, 2001 at 02:25:29 PM PST
Yep. I enjoy reading stories of other people's screw-ups so I decided to share one of mine with the post-internet-revolution virtual cybercommunity... or something.

you ain't stupid (5.00 / 1) (#3)
by johnny ambiguous on Tue Jul 31st, 2001 at 06:51:21 PM PST
Sure you tried to be stupid but you didn't try hard enough. You ain't stupid 'til you ride a motorcycle around on the public roads.

Yours WD "broken neck" K -

Getting into my Chevrolet Magic Fire, I drove slowly back to the office. - L. Rosen

Ouch (none / 0) (#4)
by donkpunch on Wed Aug 1st, 2001 at 09:21:39 AM PST
I got the motorcycle certification on my driver's license a few years ago.

I always found something besides a bike to spend my disposable income on. Plus, it seems like everybody knows somebody who broke something on one.

Getting the bike is way low on my priorities list these days.


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