Who knew? I sure didn't until I talked about my ongoing shoulder saga with my endocrinologist at a routine check up. Off handedly he mentioned it like it was common knowledge. Well it wasn't to me (makes me wonder what other interesting things about diabetes I don't know about).
I'm presently recovering from arthoscopic surgery on my shoulder. It went well but boy it was a tough decision to do it in the first place. I found myself extremely nervous about this relatively minor surgery that promised relief of the pain I've been dealing with for the last 18 months. I've had other, more major surgeries, but for some reason, this one really had me spooked. I was truly anxious about the risks (anesthesia + diabetes), the recovery (possibly 2 times as long as for a non-diabetic according to my surgeon) and ultimately, about whether I would really feel better after the inevitable days of pain and months of rehab. It's also taken forever to be diagnosed correctly: 4 months to be diagnosed with frozen shoulder; 2 months of out of control blood sugars due to one surgeon who said that a cortisone shot would do the trick in spite of the fact that I was diabetic; mri's, x-rays and 10 months of rehab, 3 times a week for the frozen shoulder; and finally, when it stopped improving, another mri and a new diagnosis of bone spurs, chronic tendonitus, bursitus. With the frozen shoulder on the decline, now surgery was the next choice, other than continuing living with it as it was...fun choice. But the decision to have surgery had me really worried too. I don't know why exactly. Fear was definitely the underlying emotion of my worry. Fear and fatigue and frustration and distrust. Not that anyone of the doctor's I've been dealing with is untrustworthy or bad; on the contrary, they have all been concerned and kind. The fear seemed to come from yet another encounter with the limits of the medical profession, the slowness of the process of diagnosis, the erosive aspects of pain, and in the end, the profound knowledge that some things just can't be fixed or cured at this point in time.
In the end though, I opted for surgery and the promise of less pain and more range of motion. I opted for the hope of feeling better over fear and worry. I opted for faith in all the doctors who work so hard to make our lives better, in spite of the limits of present medical knowledge and technology. And also I opted for the surgery because after all is said and done, diabetes makes you tough and greedy. Greedy for more joy, less pain, and the promise of the best life possible.
Plus every journey reveals a discovery, like the ability to type with one hand when absolutely necessary! Ain't life grand?