The Journey Begins

I've recently embarked on a journey of which I would have been totally content living without. The road I am on hopefully leads to a pain free life as I travel through the healing process after having shoulder surgery less than a week ago. There is a ton of information online regarding the surgery itself, but not a lot on people's individual experience with the healing process.

My journey began January 9th, 2011 while playing goal in my weekly Sunday night hockey game. I've been playing ice hockey since 1983, long enough to know what I'm doing and long enough to know my body doesn't heal like it used to. For a few years I had been debating on when to hang up the pads, or at least stop playing at the level I was at. Our group consisted of talented young guns fresh out of successful college hockey careers as well as a bunch of has beens who can still hold their own on the ice. At 40 years old, I fell in to the latter half with my glory days behind me.

What started out as a normal Sunday night, struggling to get the motivation to get off the couch and go out in the cold, quickly took a turn for the worse. There was a flurry of players crashing the net around me, and to be honest, I don't fully remember what happened other than the instant I knew my life had just taken a 90 degree turn. I made a butterfly save leaving the rebound off to my left side. I quickly dropped down to my left elbow to smother the puck and when my elbow hit the ice I heard an abnormally loud crunch next to my left ear. There was no mistaking what happened. My shoulder came completely out of the socket moving forward toward my left collar bone. As I type this reliving the moment, the same wave of nausea is creeping back like it had that night. One second all that matters is stopping a 3oz piece of rubber from crossing a painted line, and the next nothing else mattered more than getting my shoulder back where it belonged. I threw off my blocker and mask to grab my left arm. I could feel the color draining out of me like water spiraling down the drain. My hands trembled as I tried to figure out how I was going to put my shoulder back where it belonged. The only thing I knew for sure is that I wasn't moving until it was back.

A few players came to my aid and after careful consideration of what to do with me, one of them suggested I try doing the Itsy Bitsy Spider up my chest. I tried to no avail. I had no strength in my left arm at all. The pain was unbearable. I had to move it. I grabbed my left thumb with my right hand and gently lifted it up my chest, moving my shoulder ever so slightly back in the right direction. That's all I needed to feel to give it one good pull. With the grossest, most satisfying suction noise, my shoulder slid back in to place. It was excruciating and bliss at the same time.

After a slow process getting off the ice and removing my equipment, I drove home to tell my wife that I broke. With a family full of hockey players, including three goalies, we're used to our share of bumps and bruises. This one however was life altering. A trip to the ER revealed no broken bones, so I was put in a sling and sent on my way with instructions to see the orthopedist. Unfortunately, I had other plans and boarded a plane the next morning for Florida to attend my Grandfather's funeral.