With the exception of the fact that I wasn’t on stage, in costume or singing, my follow-up appointment with my surgeon today was a true operatic performance.
It was raining when I arrived and as I crossed the street (an act that got me into this trouble to begin with) I almost slipped. For the purpose of today’s performance, instead of calling it ‘slipping,’ I will refer to it as ‘dancing.’
Like most performances, still photos (x-rays) were taken and when my surgeon saw them it was as if he was looking at the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition (not usually found at the opera, but there is a chance there might be one in the dressing room). “This looks great! Just amazing! Do you have any idea how rare this break was? Unbelievable,” he proclaimed while the nature channel played in the background. “Great,” I said, extended both arms outward and asked, “Do you see this?” “Yes. You may never be able to straighten your arm again. That’s normal,” he replied, nonchalantly, then said, “Now, raise your arm like an opera star!”
My performance was stellar. Like most operas, a libretto was involved – a prescription for six more weeks of physical therapy. “Do I need to schedule a follow-up with you?” I asked. “No, we’re through. You only need to come back if something bad happens again,” he replied. Being that I’m not interested in an encore, or theatrical goodbyes, I quickly paid my out-of-pocket and exited stage right, like an opera star!