As long as I prop my arm up on the desk, I can use my right hand. Although my typing skills aren't much better with two hands, it does go a little faster. Today has been the best so far with regard to my shoulder. My range of motion continues to get better and better. Sometimes it's difficult to determine what actually hurts, the incisions or the joint.

After the first couple of days, I was doing fine. The vicodin prescription was 1-2 tablets every 4 hours as needed. Well, let me tell you, it was needed. Two tablets took care of the pain really well, and as long as I ate a little something with it, I didn't feel drunk (that happened a few times... although not unpleasant, I still didn't want to feel drugged). I tried to go down to one on Saturday night and that didn't even touch it. I started to get a little concerned about the amount that was prescribed to me. I had 60 pills, 2 every 4 hours would not get me to Wednesday (day 6) when I had my follow up appointment.

On Monday morning, I contacted the doctor's office and left messages for his assistant (the nurse that was very forth coming with information). At 3:00pm, I still had not received a return call. I contacted the office a couple of times, continuing to get the run around. I finally called and told them I wanted to speak to someone instead of leaving a message. A resident doctor got on the phone and asked me how she could help (at this point, I feel like anything I say will make me sound like a narcotics fiend). I informed her of my concern and requested some options since I did not have a refill. She asked me, "how many tablets are you taking a day?" I told her 2 every 4 hours, which was 12. She said, "Oh, well, you aren't supposed to take more than 8 a day." I told her that nowhere on the bottle did it inform me of that. I told her that I would have enough until Wednesday if I took them at that rate. I was still concerned, but thought that as long as I could take 2 at night, I would be okay. During the day, the ice pack would take care of the pain.

On Wednesday, I went into see the doctor. After waiting an hour, I was seen by another resident doctor. I told him about the pain medication and he said, "That's ridiculous. You take them as you need to. We will get you a refill." I told him I did not want to become dependent on them and he informed me that they were watching out for that. The doctor came in. At the time, I had a million questions for him. He took my arm out of the sling and start rotating it outwardly. It felt like he was tearing the meat right off of my shoulder (funny sidenote: While the doctor was causing this pain, I said, "It feels like your boning a chicken." He laughed and said, "Do you mind clarifying that for me?" I laugh, even in my pain it was hilarious. I said, "I meant tearing the meat off of a chicken bone." Everyone in the room laughed. He laughed again and said, "I'm glad you cleared that up for me."). Afterwards, he leaned back, sighed and said, "Okay. Have your wife do that a couple of times a day for you. Any questions?" Anything I had thought of before my appointment had completely escaped me, following the pain leaving my body. "No." Then he told me he would see me in 5 weeks. They took out the stitches, put on steri-strips, handed me another prescription for my vicodin and told me to make an appointment for the 5 week follow up.

So, of course, I have all of these questions to ask. I have put in calls to the nurse, with no response. However, my shoulder is doing better every day.