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If I Assumed the Lotus Posture …

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… I Wouldn’t Be Able to Get Up

Over the last two weeks, my broken collar bone has put the quietus on a number of activities, most especially driving, putting on and taking off my shirt, and standing up when seated on the ground. The latter activity is also due to my aging knees, which require the use of both hands in getting up from the ground.

Actually, what I miss the most are my mindful meditation sessions every Thursday at the Los Angeles Central Library. Theoretically, I could go; but I would be risking severe injury if I fell. So I have to practice my meditation by myself. I can do it, but the guided sessions are not only useful but uplifting.

I can feel myself getting stronger. The pain, when it comes, is the result of overdoing it with my right arm. I just have to remind myself that my right arm is on vacation somewhere, and I just have to wait until he returns.

Today, I went to the doctor. She was satisfied with my overall health, though she wanted me to get a bone density scan because I have been breaking a lot of bones lately: two shoulders, one collar bone, and several ribs. I just have to be patient.

Twelve Hours

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UCLA Ronald Reagan Medical Center

I was admitted to the UCLA Ronald Reagan Medical Center’s Emergency Room in the wee hours after I broke my collar bone at the Getty Center. By the time I made it back to my apartment, my right arm was so totally immobilized that I was unable to get up from the couch. The paramedics were called in, and they trundled me off to an ambulance and the hospital.

At first, the doctors were more interested in the bump on my head; so I was first sent to have a CT Scan, which fortunately didn’t look too threatening. Getting an X-Ray of my collar bone proved to be quite a challenge for the radiology department, as I could not scoot from mt wheelchair to the gurney attached to the X-Ray unit. Finally, however, they managed to get an image.

After that, I slept soundly after taking some oxycodone. By the time I woke up, the hospital wanted to discharge me/ It took a couple of hours for Martine to dress up and get to the hospital, whereupon we took a taxi home and I began my slow recovery.

I’m B-a-a-a-ck

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Where It Happened

It was mid-afternoon on Wednesday, June 3, when I got up from my seat right next to one of the rebar planters in the garden of the Getty Center. Sliding on the gravel, I slid into one of the planters, striking it with my head, collarbone, and the back of my right hand. Three bystanders came and helped me up.

The pain wasn’t yet at its peak: That came three hours later. Somehow, I managed to make my way to the MTA bus stop on Sepulveda Blvd. and take the 761 bus to the end of the line by the Metro Rail Sepulveda station. From there, I had to walk four blocks to where my car was parked near the intersection of Exposition and Pico. Driving several miles with an ever more painful right shoulder was not easy. Somehow I managed the feat by planning a route with all right turns (using my left arm to turn right).

I could barely make it up the stairs to my apartment. When I walked in, I notified Martine that I had rebroken my right shoulder. (I was wrong as it turned out.)

Plunking down on the couch, I found the pain increasing exponentially, to the extent that I couldn°t get up. After dealing with my stubborn refusals for six hours, Martine dialed 911. Within minutes, my apartment was filled with burly first responders, who lifted me up and waltzed me down the stairs top a waiting ambulance. Fortunately, UCLA Ronald Reagan Hospital had space for me in their emergency ward.

I will give you more info tomorrow. I will jump the gun, however, by informing you that the diagnosis of my condition was “closed nondisplaced fracture of acromial end of right clavicle.”