God came to my gym today. I was riding the recumbent bike at the end of my workout to cool down. I kept my headphones in my ears, but I had the music turned off. I just wanted to think and pray and have some Zen time. My eyes were shut and I was talking to God in my head when I felt someone standing next to me. It was one of the very nice little old ladies at my gym. She touched my arm and asked me, “Are you OK?” I smiled and said, “Yes, I am. Why do you ask?” And she said she was just wondering. And then she smiled at me and left.
God and I haven’t been speaking to each other much lately, so it makes sense God would come find out for personally if I was alright. God and I haven’t been fighting or anything. We just both get busy with other stuff, I suspect.
But God being God figured something’s up with me (maybe God’s been reading my blog) and it is. I’ve been wondering lately what other body part is going to go to hell next since I found out last week that I probably have a torn rotator cuff and a humeral cyst in my right shoulder.
“What caused it?” I asked my hand specialist doctor, the same one who told me in January that the osteoarthritis in both of my wrists is the worst case he’s ever seen. He just sort of smiled and looked at me with a mix of sympathy and uncertainty and so I said, “It’s just the way I am, isn’t it?” And he nodded.
I’ll have an MRI on September 5, although the lady at the scheduling desk is getting used to my phone call every morning wondering if someone cancelled an appointment so I could get in sooner. I’m not a wimpy baby when it comes to pain usually, but my shoulder hurts like a son-of-a-bitch and my arsenal of drugs is turning my insides to mush. A cortisone shot won’t do a damn bit of good, but acupuncture might. Yet another thing my insurance won’t cover. But I’d give up Trader Joe’s ranch dressing for a year to pay for acupuncture if it helps relieve this pain.
I think God’s a lot like my doctor. God, in the form of that sweet little lady this morning (who, for the record, has no idea about my rotator cuff), smiled at me in that “I’m sorry” way that lets me know that the pain, while all mine to feel, is not all mine to deal with alone.