The Sling King

A couple weeks ago my doctor released me and my ankle. This means no more blanket restrictions on what I can and can’t do with it. Of course, I will still have to wear my brace anytime I do any sort of physical activity for the next year and I’m supposed to “let pain be my guide” when deciding if a pursuit is appropriate for my ankle. Basically meaning, if something hurts my ankle, I shouldn’t do it. Yeah right, after 7 years of habitually ignoring the pain in my ankle and doing whatever I felt like anyway, I doubt I would even notice if it decided to spontaneously combust at this point.

Either way, I am thrilled I was released two months ahead of schedule and unbelievably excited to get my body back into shape!

So what happened just days after I got this exciting news? Jason ended up at the doctor’s and in physical therapy for a tendon injury. (Snickering now is appropriate.)

Yes, just literally days after I got released from physical therapy following my tendon repair surgery, Jason wound up at my physical therapist’s because he hurt his tendon. Admitting this may make me seem a little cruel, but I have a hard time not laughing when I think about the situation.

So how did Jason hurt his tendon? A friend of his was visiting from Ireland a couple months ago and wanted to go mountain biking. Although I was out of commission, I encouraged him to go and have some fun, so he did. Jas and I have been biking on all sorts of crazy terrain and have never injured ourselves beyond road rashes and bruises, but since I was not there this time to be the voice of reason, he and his boys went flying down the mountain way too fast and he injured the tendon under his bicep by overexerting it.

Grumpy Jason
Grumpy Jason: I think this was about the only time I got him to wear his sling.

It took me weeks to convince him to go see the doctor even though his arm continued to hurt. But he finally did and yup, it was his tendon, and yup he has to do physical therapy. (I will try to contain my laughter since it makes typing difficult.) The doctor told him to wear a sling for a few weeks so his arm could rest and heal. Does he wear it? No. He complained that it was too hard to sleep in so he stopped wearing it to bed after only one night and then he decided that it was far too inconvenient to wear during the day too. Oh brother-I am rolling my eyes right now-cry me a river! I just spent months sleeping with casts and boots and braces on my foot, even though they made sleeping next to impossible. Jason was extremely quick to scold me if I even thought about sleeping without them but his sling is just “too uncomfortable” for him to follow the doctor’s instructions and wear it as he should.

Sigh-what am I going to do with that boy? I guess I’ll just keep laughing and hope that physical therapy, and the painful deep-tissue friction massages the therapist has been giving him, work. (Yes, he has been complaining about those as well. My eyes are now rolling again-try getting a friction massage on the site you just had surgery on a few weeks ago. Then you can talk to me about pain. Wimp!)

Despite Jason’s unwillingness to follow the doctor’s orders, may he and I both have healthy happy tendons soon!

*I think this post needs a disclaimer, lest all of you think I am monstrously heartless with my sweet husband. Here it is: It is only the irony of the situation that I find funny not my husband’s pain. And while I do think he is being a complete wimp about all of this, and that makes me laugh also, I wish him a speedy recovery. And of course, I love him dearly despite the fact that he seems to have as much backbone as a gummy worm.