opposite day every day
A friend and former colleague of mine had a thing she did. She called it exercising her brain. I’m pretty sure she saw it on a website somewhere. Or maybe she was up late one night and bought a multi-CD box set (yes, it was that long ago) on QVC. Maybe she lost an ill-advised New Year’s Eve bet. I honestly don’t remember how it started.
I also don’t remember now if it was weekly or monthly, but for one whole day during that period, she would do everything with her opposite hand. Brush her teeth. Write. Eat. You name it, she did it. And I’ll admit that I derived just a little sadistic pleasure from watching the show.
I used to think she was just a little unbalanced. Or maybe getting up there in years and a few marbles short. Funny. They say memory is the first thing to go. I can’t even remember how frequently she exercised her brain in this way, so I guess the joke’s on me.
But that’s okay. I plan on remembering a lot of shit… very fast. Because, for me, it’s been opposite day since December 13. That’s when I became Patient A in a future medical journal article.
I had some allegedly minor surgery back in April—the 28th, to be exact—in which the alleged surgeon allegedly never touched any alleged nerves. But ever since that day, I haven’t been able to lift my left arm higher than parallel to the ground in a very un-alleged way. Even worse if I tried to lift my arm to the side. So, after many second, third, and fourth opinions, tests involving electric shocks and needles, and all manner of scans (the technical term for this quantity is “fuck-ton…” and by the way, I think I fell one scan short of glow-in-the-dark status), I wound up in the land of last resorts. In my case, that meant—in the words of my orthopedic surgeon, “a pretty major reconstructive surgery” and (again, not-so-alleged) permanent damage.
It’s the kind of the thing you didn’t even know was possible until you’re sitting in an office listening to a doctor tell you he’s going to do it to your body. Things really heat up when he calls to tell you it’s even more complicated than the medical amalgam of words he used in his office. And to squirt just a little more lighter fluid on the fire… he’s never done this particular procedure before.
But he’s the top shoulder guy in town and all the other docs trust him. Plus, I’m a bit of a risk taker. So I give him the thumbs up. He asks for another week to research the procedure and speak with a few colleagues around the country. Of course, I decline. That’s just too much to ask, right? Wrong. I’m not that much of a risk-taker. When the guy wielding the scalpel asks for more time to study, the answer is always “yes.”
So here I am. Three weeks post from this nearly 5-hour virgin surgery. I have a big scar in front and an even bigger one in back. And I have the privilege of training new muscles to do what the old, dead ones used to do. But the doc went out of his way to minimize the impact to all my shoulder artwork. And I’m already on the preferred customer list at Elite Physical Therapy. Hell, if they had frequent flyer accounts I’d be at whatever comes after platinum status.
In hindsight, it seems like a pretty extreme way for this lefty to learn to do things right-handed. In hinder-sight, I probably should’ve studied my friend Faye all those years ago. Or at least started practicing opposite day much sooner. Don’t get me wrong. The surgery was, by all accounts, very successful. And I know I have it better than many people. For that, I feel very fortunate. But holy hell… simple things become a lot less simple when you have to do them with the wrong hand. I won’t bore you with the whole list. Suffice to say that little things like eating soup are now an adventure in spill control. And a razor in my right hand quickly turns into a bloody face.
But you know, there’s always something to learn. Sometimes more than one something. I’ve certainly gained perspective and appreciation for the ordinary things I’m able to do. And for the ordinary things I’ll be able to do again in a few months.
Maybe I’ll keep opposite day in the rotation. Maybe it really is good for the brain. Last time I checked, Faye was still going strong. And I know I can certainly use the memory assist. But even if I’m a little fuzzier on things than I used to be, opposite day is worth keeping around to remind me to spend more time being thankful for what I have than worrying about what I don’t have. After all, a little blood on the face is a small price to pay for that kind of clarity.
Cheers!
