Right after I adjusted to the fact that a Kraken lurks in my shoulder and shared that nugget of information with the world here on the blog, I was notified of a pending Kraken upgrade.
You see, the symptoms that sent me to the doctor in the first place seemed to be getting worse instead of better. Pain was increasing, mobility decreasing. So doctor sent me up the Kraken expert ladder. Turns out this was a mixed blessing.
Doctor 1 had "under-diagnosed" my Kraken. I would seem that instead of the common Kraken tendinitis, I am being visited by the Great Arctic Kraken, also known as Frozen Shoulderus. Not only that, but he has brought along his little friend Kraken arthritis.
I did not take this as good news, as Arctic Krakens are notoriously stubborn, requiring 2-3 years of diligent effort to tame on average. No one can explain why Artic Krakens choose to move into a specific territory, though several speculate the they are attracted by repetitive movements in the region. Others go so far as to suggest that they may be attracted to stress, or women in menopause (Who? Me?). Everyone agrees, however, that they mean business.
So off I go to the mighty Kraken tamer (commonly referred to as "the physiotherapist"), who takes one look at me and says "Oh dear". Not terribly reassuring, I'll tell you. Then he set about torturing the Kraken, or rather, me. It was not fun, and I have been assured that I will be having this not fun twice a week for a year or so. Not cool.
I was sent home with a couple of ridiculously simple little exercises. On paper. I am diligently practicing these exercises and I am absolutely gobsmacked by how much these idiotically simple little movements hurt all of a sudden.
All of that optimism that I was so adamant I possessed just a few short weeks ago flew out the window. Being told that you will not raise your arm or sleep without pain for two years will do that to a gal. I will confess to a day of wallowing in the Sea of Oh Poor Me. Those waters are warm and deep.
Yet, this morning, that same slightly manic determination that figured out how to knit and spin with one hand in a cast from elbow to finger tip has surfaced again. All things considered, this is a survivable catastrophe. It will not be pleasant, and there will, no doubt be setbacks. But I have support from my lovely family. I also have two doctors and a physiotherapist working with me, and when she gets back from holidays, my RMT will get in on the Kraken taming. I have a smorgasboard of Kraken-calming nostrums, ranging from herbal to narcotic. In fact, the local medical community is treating this more diligently than they did the broken wrist.
Last week, my boss told me that his wife has a mantra: "The Universe is in complete and perfect balance". Then he laughed and said that she only uses it when things are going terribly wrong.
The Universe is in complete and perfect balance.
And we will survive.