Health update, briefly

The big dumb dog just about pulled my arm out of its socket last Monday and I can still barely move it. PT says don’t use it for anything but absolute compulsories, which rules out email correspondence, creative/blog writing and worst, guitar playing. I just started taking (cheap) private lessons by some beat-up 60s-survivor, literally the day the dog tried to remove my arm. He arranged a smokin’ version of “Folsom Prison Blues” and is even gonna teach me the signature Cash boom-chicka-boom picking method. Actually, he did show it to me, I just haven’t been able to pick up my guitar and practice it yet and may not get to for another week at least. One dog-walk and my entire month is fucked.

The Boy and I are heading out to SoCal for a wedding tomorrow and I hope to return with more use of my right arm. But this is torture, man. It’s yoinked nerves, not muscles, which means pain relievers don’t do a damned thing. Pure, fucking torture.

UPDATE: New prognosis (post visit to physical therapist today) is for a recovery measured in months, not weeks. This is more kinds of fucked up than I want to think about right now. Thank God I don’t have any real problems or I’d probably faint dead away.