Walk the Line

A while ago I started a somewhat sarcastic post along the lines of "how I spent" my summer.  Tried to keep it short but...

Awwww f'getaboutit!

So since May I've had 3 surgeries. During the first one I had a doctor induced infection leading to a ruined knee, 2 additional surgeries including a complete knee replacement. Finally 9 months later, they tell me it's about as good as it's going to get. Still not great but certainly better than being in a wheelchair.
Somewhere along the line I also managed to injure my shoulders. More about that later.

Meanwhile, It's the middle of Feb. and I need some hay for my horse. Finding hay in late winter is not always easy. I usually try not to put myself in the position of doing it but this year...well, all things considered...

So I call a guy, make an appointment, make sure The Youngest is available to help load, 'cause remember - shoulders? I can't. But our intrepid farmer finds himself in Walla Walla when we're supposed to be at his place in Hermiston. He wants me to come out at another time more convenient for him, unfortunately then I'd have no help to load and would soon be out of hay. As I try to explain why that would be difficult for me the guy starts making noise, gets all snitty and wow...it just pulled my plug!  He's not where he's supposed to be, when he's supposed to be and he gives ME static??????

But I was good.

I didn't yell, or anything, I just calmly told him that I guessed we were done then, and discontinued the call.

He thought about it for a minute and called back. I may have pushed the "reject call" button. But it went to voice mail and he left a short apology.

Fine. Whatever.

Two days later he calls again. I didn't look at the number before I answered my cell phone and before I  know it, my favorite jackass farmer was on the line. He doesn't want to lose business and offers some explanations plus tells me about the unfortunate incident a few weeks ago when a few bales fell on his shoulders...so he hurts too. But he does have a loader and wouldn't be doing it by hand anyway soooo...the point of his story about his owies was????

It didn't really matter. I'd already found another hay source and politely told him that. BUT he wanted me to know that I'd just caught him at a awkward moment, he really wasn't a bad guy and would like me to keep him in mind if I needed any hay in the future.

????

Okay. But like, only if I'm totally desperate, yes?

Meanwhile, I wish him well. I hope his injuries heal. Bye-bye.

As for me, well....those shoulders???  After a couple of MRI's, physical therapy and... Gosh, no one (doctors at least) seem to know what happened, however the cartilage in the right shoulder is all torn up. They'll be happy to shoot cortisone in it for as long as I want, and when I simply can't stand the pain anymore - then they'll be happy to do a total shoulder joint replacement. My family doctor tells me shoulder surgery is one of those operations you absolutely want to avoid if at all possible.

WHAT?

I know somethings just "are." That's life, you play the cards you're dealt and deal with it.

But, this voice inside me, still wants to ask: It wasn't that way, at all, last May, before you started to mess with my life. And I'd like to know about the perfect, fingerprint bruises on my right arm after the one surgery, and exactly what you did to my arm.


Ah, but no one's talking, are they? And little things, like reaching behind me, picking up anything heavier than 15 lbs. much less lifting a light, grass hay bale? Probably never going to happen again. It shouldn't be. But...

In the words of someone famous....prove it.