That is how a dear friend characterized my situation when he came visiting me in hospital five weeks ago, because I had received surgery on my broken right shoulder. Now I have three little screws in the upper bone of my right arm.
What happened
Five and a half weeks ago I was expecting a client at a quarter to six and wanted to exchange the water in a jug and pour the old water into the plants on the balcony. However my playing cat had created a fold in the carpet. I wanted to avoid the cat and the carpet, but overlooked the little stick in the fold with which she played and stumbling over it I fell so unfortunately that the jug dropped out of my hands and I crashed with my right shoulder onto the wooden floor. The crash was as audible as is it was to be felt – the plain was indescribably intense. I felt extremely nauseous immediately and I just lay on my back, holding my shoulder in the midst of broken glass – a glass I had also carried got smashed too, the jug however survived.
I pulled myself together, knowing my client would be arriving any moment. As a matter of fact she had heard my crash through the open balcony door. I was hardly in my hall, when the doorbell rang and as she came in, I asked her to take care of the mess in my living room. There was no way to do a session anymore. Helpful and kindly she removed the broken glass, wiped the spilled water up and got me rescue remedy from my kitchen cupboard, she helped me drink…while I was shaking with the shock on my couch and the pain was increasing steadily. She stayed a few hours, helped me to go to the toilet and to bed…I kept my jersey dress on, to get dressed or undressed was simply impossible. Then she fed my cat and left my apartment, extinguishing the light. In the dark, I spoke on the phone with dear friends and together we meditated on the healing of my arm. Then I was laying in bed between my phones and more or less prayed incessantly, that the shoulder was only sprained. I slept little – anxious and restless due to fear and pain and the nudging scenarios how to deal with this sudden lack of mobility. In the meantime the pain was so bad I knew, it would be impossible for me to get up, that is to say lift my upper torso from lying down. But a pan that my client had left me and emptied once more before she left, served me well. I realized increasingly that my life had just taken an unplanned turn and changes were afoot of which the dimensions were unforeseeable.
Things run their course
This had already begun with the client: in this sudden situation of extreme intimacy our actually rather professional relationship turned into a friendship. She thought her own behavior utterly natural and I was very grateful that she had appeared just as the right moment. She was then also one of the dear people who helped me in the three weeks after hospital, to wash my hair and get showered…for initially the scar from the operation was not allowed to get wet. Therefore I had devised a helpful patent with another smart and kind friend by using ceranwrap, tape and a plastic bag… so the wound could stay dry. This however made me even more unflexible and so I sat like a statue on a little stool in my tub and was washed… And again and primarily I was extremely grateful that twelve people changed or adjusted their plans spontaneously to accommodate my needs.
A friend and her husband offered – aside from meditating together on my healing their immediate help. It was then this friend who took to me to the clinic the next morning and despite our intense meditation, visualization and intending for a good outcome…it got worse and worse: the first doctor, a nice young Spaniard, lifted and pulled my right arm – which hurt. My fearful question: “Broken or sprained?” he answered with: “X-ray!” The x-ray nurse asked me to take off my dress I declared, I couldn´t do it. While she gently put the led apron around my waist, she asked what happened and I explained I had stumbled over a cat toy. She then left the room for the x-ray and when she came back, she said, I shouldn´t be angry at my cat – but my arm was broken…
Then I was sent back to the young Spaniard and he said, he was about to get his colleague, an expert for shoulder surgery. In the meantime I was to receive painkillers and a so-called “OmoLoc”belt. It´s a kind of belt with three loops and velcro that fixates the upper arm to the side of the body and the lower arm on the belly. This way the shoulder is stabilized. Fortunately my right hand was somewhat free and it was and remained quite mobile.
The shoulder expert explained it was a fracture. Still in a shock and wishfully thinking I thought more of a crack, like in a ceramic bowl and asked: “But not broken?” But my dear friend, who was accompanying me, kindly explained: “Lisa, a fracture is a break!” The shoulder surgeon suppressed a grin, and maintained his compassion. He explained how he was planning on operating it and fortunately a time window had just opened Monday morning…and before then I was to have an MRI. Then he left and my friend too, had to get to her day´s work, but said, she´d return in the evening to pick me up so I could spend the weekend with them. For there was no way I could spend the weekend alone. I couldn´t even feed myself, nor the cat. That was taken care of by a kind and long experienced neighbor.
I then spend the next hours in the clinic with the filling out of forms, preliminary talks about the surgery, among others with the finance department and the anesthetist. Everybody was most friendly and helpful. I was allowed to remain standing, for sitting down and getting up was too painful and because writing was difficult I was given clipboards with the form just right under the fingers which held the pen to make crosses and sign…
I got home safely. The clinic is in walking distance to my house and I was able to open the front door without difficulties and then I spent the next hours completely reorganizing my next four weeks: I cancelled all appointments with clients, my physiotherapist, Qi Gong class, some friends and had to cancel two trips and inform hosts and fellow travelers…that it was most unlikely to join them. However I still had the naïve idea of perhaps being able to travel with the arm in the sling… Then I got my stuff for the clinic together – my friend packed it later into a bag – and install the auto responder for my emails. In the evening my friends came, packed me up with all my necessities and I departed from my cat, well knowing I wouldn´t return until after the clinic.
The weekend was sunny and warm and while my dear friends who on top of everything else had just moved the previous weekend, took loving care of me and otherwise dealt with tons of boxed, I sat on their lovely new balcony, read a book and meditated… For my attitude in such matters is that there are now accidents, nothing is by chance and that every sickness contains a message and that for me now it was all about surrendering to the healing process and open up to the according insights.
On Sunday the three of us meditated again together on the healing and my friend declared, he wished for me the best possible treatment and the best possible team for the surgery on my shoulder. This good intention was well supported by my friend and I took it in with my heart.
In the hospital
Absurdly tained – having spent two days in the sun and with an empty stomach for the surgery my friend took me to the clinic on Monday morning…followed by two surreal hours, full of misunderstandings. I hadn´t properly remembered the surgeon´s request to be at the MRI at 8 am, but also the head nurse in charge at the hospital ward, where I was to call the evening before, to confirm my stay, only remarked I was expected at the ward the next day. Then I got the hospital wards mixed up and we waited at the wrong one – where the employer of the hospital who could have resolved my mistake called in sick that very morning and nobody was able to enter her office to get hold of necessary paperwork. Finally I got a phone call by the shoulder surgeon on my cellphone and the mistake was resolved. And he said I would have to wait longer now for my operation – but in the state I was in time is of minor importance. But when I had finally settled into the right ward where I had already been searched for – the surrealism suddenly stopped. My friend had hardly left when the head nurse rushed in to prepare me for the operation. Amused she noticed that all my clothes were purple – I wore a loose lilac blouse and purple jogging pants, nothing else was possible with the hurt arm and this was overheard by the male nurse who was to take me to the surgery in my bed. On our way he asked whether I knew what was being said about the color purple and I nodded and said it was considered the color of frustrated women and he said: The color of sexually frustrated people. I nodded and said that made sense for otherwise there was no reason why all the cardinals should be wearing purple… And then I explained to him that this was a popular reaction in Germany of the 1980ies, for the women´s magazine “Emma” (of course the short form for ema-ncipation) founded by the major German protagonist of the Women´s lib movement in Germany at the time often raised attention with its purple logo with the sign of the feminine. Yet I was wondering what the actual reason behind this might be if only women´s lib was behind this. So I did some research and found out that the root is indeed to be found in the catholic church: refraining from sex during the time of advent – the weeks preceding Christmas – was considered as an expression of particular piety. As the priests in the church wear purple gowns during that time of year…it became the color for those who struggled with their chastity at this time of year…
Because I was now too late for an MRI, the surgeon decided on an arthroscopy followed by the surgery. I received an intravenous injection with the anesthesia and felt like falling backwards. I didn´t consider it particularly pleasant, but the last thing I heard the doctor say was that some people actually rather enjoyed it.
Three hours later I woke up in the wake-up room and was taken back to my ward by the male nurse. This time he asked, what actually happened and I repeated the story of the cat toy. He remarked that cats were highly dangerous after all and then told a few horror stories how people had gotten a fatal sepsis from the ever so poisonous cat saliva or that a toe had to be amputated after a cat bite. I had to laugh, which was somewhat painful and replied that medical personal generally seemed to have a somewhat distorted perception of reality: most people had no life threatening problems with their cats and even the cat toy or the stick over which I stumbled, I could have removed. The cat was not to be blamed.
I had a lovely single room at the ward – I had decided to pay the extra amount for a single room out of my own pocket. For the notion to share the room with a possibly snoring roommate and a flickering TV screen seemed highly unattractive to me. The nurse, who wanted to activate the TV for me was most surprised when I refused and said I´d rather read. And that´s what I did. Thanks to the tablet I had to hardly move my right shoulder and arm and after three hours I was finally permitted to go the bathroom again on my own. No doctor had spoken to me yet – but I assumed that everything had gone fine – otherwise they would have certainly spoken with me.
The next morning I then learned by the visiting doctor and his entourage that in contrast to the x-ray of the shoulder there had only been one fracture, not two. This was the result of the arthroscopy and an MRI would have been unnecessary. From a medical point of view it was minor routine surgery. (The scars are indeed quite small). Then he and his train took off and I pondered.
The power of the mind
We had continued the healing meditation for my shoulder the entire weekend and other friends, who had learned about this had joined us in their way. I am sure that this already closed up the first fracture – who knows, how much meditation and trust, that we can unite split off pieces with each other again, might have made the surgery superfluous. But a higher intelligence seemed to be active who endowed me with three titan screws in the head of my right upper arm bone – I´ve named them Huey, Dewey and Louis for we will now live together in this body.
And the odd delays on the morning of the surgery suddenly made sense: my friends had intended the best possible operation team for me. The anesthetist actually said to me I had been expected at eight in the morning but I would have missed him because he had just started his shift…and furthermore the MRI couldn´t take place – of which I had had the feeling that its awful noise would have stressed me much more than relax me – however relaxation is helpful for the surgery…and so one thing fell into place after another.
And since then I meditate frequently and intensely on my shoulder. I imagine how healing energy is moving through it without blockages and how I happily dance with both arms, hugs people, swim, sculpt, cook etc.
Care
In this I was frequently supported by many kind visitors and callers. And all of them immediately offered their maximum help. By either inviting me to stay with them, or even stay with me until I had regained my mobility somewhat. For the first fortnight after the surgery I was to keep the arm quite still and the scar was not allowed to get wet…
So I spend all of Wednesday texting and talking on the phone – and organized my own care service and finally cancelled the planned trips completely. Nobody was surprised.
In between another male nurse came and wanted to take me for a check-up x-ray in my bed. But because I could easily use my feet, I asked whether we couldn´t just walk over to the x ray department. That was not allowed, but a wheelchair was possible and so he pushed me above the ground through a beautiful autumn day across the beautiful grounds of the hospital. When I also appreciated the lovely air on the way back, the nurse took me on a little detour through the park!
And also a nice and fantastically competent physiotherapist came and massaged my tense back and had me make first movements. His advice was different from the doctor´s and I finally decided to follow my own impulses.
If the doctor had gotten his way, he would have discharged me on the second day after surgery. But the head nurse advised to let me stay another – and she was right. I didn´t feel fit enough until Thursday and I needed the Wednesday to get myself organized.
Back home
A dear friend picked me up and took me home – and I realized that the geographic distance is minuet – you can see my house from the emergency entrance, but the psychological distance is immense. Even if I had been permitted to leave I probably wouldn´t have visited my home and my cat…who had been alone now for a good week.
She actually reacted in quite an unsual manner when I returned. When I normally come home from a trip she greets me quietly meowing in the hallway and rubbing her back against my legs. But this time she avoided me loudly meowing and actually avoided me and when I touched her, she even hissed. It took another threequarters of an hour, after my friend had showered me, like a four year old… that my cat accepted being caressed again and then remained rather close from then on. Including her habit that whenever I was gone for a while to trample on my tummy for a long while until I´m absolutely awake, preferably at 3.30 am…
My friend thought the cat might feel guilty, for after all she had caused my fall. I am not so sure – I actually think that my fall – during which she was present – actually frightened her too and especially that I couldn´t pet her any longer from one moment to the next. I couldn´t bend down to her and even when she was sitting on my desk, I could only touch her with one hand. She could have perceived this as a withdrawal of affection. And perhaps she disliked the smell of the clinic and perhaps she actually sensed in her own way that I hadn’t been on a normal journey…
Then there were two weeks during which I was literally pampered by twelve loving people: they helped me shower and wash my hair, do the laundry, empty the kitty litter box, went grocery shopping, cooked meals for me and braided my hair. In the first five days somebody came in the morning and the evening, then two weeks during which they came only in the evening and finally only every second or third day. Currently I get along pretty well on my own. I cannot exchange lightbulbs yet and changing the sheets on my bed is most difficult, but I can get dressed completely on my own and since the scar is allowed to get wet, shower and wash my hair all by myself – with my left hand!
And one week after surgery I began with intense physiotherapy three times a week. It is remarkable how fast some things went and how slow others. Typing was possible right from the start even though I take more breaks than usual. The sixth week after surgery has now begun and I still struggle braiding my long hair – I cannot stretch my right arm that far back yet. It´s easier to put a pullover on than to take it off – in the beginning I only wore cardigans and elastic pants and a poncho, which is an ideal piece of clothing if one cannot lift one´s arm. Every day there is something which I´ve happily regained, like putting BOTH hands underneath the tap, moving the zipper of my jeans, unscrewing a bottle (with my left hand). By now I can do almost all movements again with my right hand, however some movements still hurt a lot and I lack the strength. Driving a car would probably still be difficult dew to shifting gears. However I can attach a certain hairclip, can cut soft apples and leak, but not a hard lemon or onion… I assume in three weeks I can return to my QI Gong class and Christmas I should be able to ride my bike again and do my beloved Tibetan exercise (including the push-ups…)
The message
As mentioned above I do not believe in accidents or things happening by chance. Therefore the question if this could have been avoided is pointless. I am convinced if this could have been avoided or should have, it wouldn´t have happened. And obviously the cause bears no relation to the effect. I didn´t have to go surfing or skiing to break my bone – it happened in my own home… A dear friend, who compassionately called me while I was in hospital told me that she had also just had an accident. She was mountain biking in Switzerland and crashed – however, she had only split her lip and didn´t even need surgery…
It is too easy to say my body needed a break (ha!) – however it´s true and that I was a bit too stressed before – that´s true too. But if it just had been about taking a break and slowing down, a decent flue or sprained ankle would have probably done their service. And by the way, it never occurred to me once after my fall to call for an ambulance – I was just deeply convinced that everything would be better the next day and I just needed rest…
So, now I ask myself what I am to decode and learn here. Some has already revealed itself to me, other will in the future.
Some clues have been provided by my shoulder – which in itself is a symbol for certain dynamics. Other clues is the still occasionally quite impressive pain. I have broken my foot and my wrist in the past – but neither of them were so painful. And pain too, carries a message, for physical pain is the expression of an emotional, psychic our soul pain that couldn´t be felt otherwise before. For the physical expression is always the last resort of a soul. In other words every physical ailment is preceded by an energetic, psychic, emotional imbalance – if you cannot perceive it, it becomes a physical experience. And the felt pain is in direct relation to the pain, that should have been felt at some other time and place – mostly during childhood, but not always. However to feel the pain in the very situation was not possible for various reasons. But in order for the soul to move on it´s path of growth in consciousness and we can have the experiences we so deeply desire – the things show up that are still in our way. Often through resistance and fear and sometimes even in an intense physical form.
And over and over again I realize, that it is truly not about remembering or understanding something that happened sometime somehow that is the cause of all this. But to accept that our trauma and the according feelings are stored in our body – and if one is interested in growth of consciousness – they show up so that they can be touched by consciousness and thus released. It´s not necessary to understand them, but important to feel them – and give oneself permission to do so. Sometimes images occur – that are an expression of subjective truth, at least as far as the emotional experience is concerned that was connected to it. But it is often very difficult to anchor it in one´s own conscious reality and often they come from times of which we have no conscious memory – may it be in this life or another.
It´s only important to accept that in a way our body is a gigantic harddrive, that stores all our physical and emotional memory in it´s cells – that, depending how intense, can lead to blockages in our emotions and energy.
What remains
Body Kintsugi: I decided to regard the three little titanium screws who will probably stay with me for the rest of my life as a body version of the Japanese art of repair: something is more perfect now than it was before it broke…
A meanwhile remarkable aptness with my left hand: I still maneuver the mouse with my left hand even though I could already do it with my right…
A deep gratitude for my friends and some acquaintances and their enormously generous and reliable help which I received in such a loving way.
An intense humbleness concerning the power of life – that, as John Lennon so astutely once said: “happens, while we have other plans.”
An enormous respect for our physical vulnerability, our actual fragility on the one hand – that my body deserves far more caretaking than I have given him until now and that this probably applies to most people… On the other hand we have an enormous capacity to self-heal: I keep working on being completely free of my symptoms and I am young and fit enough to achieve this. This requires a certain discipline…but especially patience and I am learning yet again, to let go of expectations yet to pursue my goals with perseverance. Time seems to be what we turn this into. For me right now it´s a healing remedy…for with every exercise and day my physical autonomy is increasing.
Furthermore an increase of respect of our psychic abilities: I am sure without the meditations the results would have been much more tough.
And even more compassion for those, who like me – are suddenly removed from their lives – and now have to redesign their being completely. That was another thought that occurred to me while I was waiting for my x-ray among some others whose injuries were much worse.
As far as the messages go, I probably have understood some already, others while reveal themselves to me in due course. But I definitely accept that I am the creator of all of this and that there is a deeper sense behind it that serves me even though I do not quite understand it. I am sure the insights will continue.
