It's been almost two months since my wife, Julie, tripped over the dog and broke her upper arm. The X-rays showed her left humerus with multiple cracks bordering the shoulder joint. She fell in the kitchen at dinnertime. Our dog, Bailey--- who would qualify for pet Medicare if there were such a thing,---was sitting near the table, which is his ritual, waiting for edible alms. Julie turned to check whatever was cooking that night on the stove. I forget. Trauma has wiped out that culinary memory. And wham! She went down hard on her left side. Her head a providential millimeter from the front of the stove.
Our orthopedic doctor, Michael Liston, advised against surgery because of the nature of the fracture. The pins would not have held, he said. Nature will mend it in time. So my wife has been convalescing at home, on medical leave from her job.
As a sidebar to this medical tale, I have to let the world of potential bonebreakers know about Dr. Liston. He may be one of the best of those physicians who not only are good at their craft but also have the kindest, most compassionate bedside manner. In our opinion, he deserves another certificate on his office walls---for tender loving care!
We were at his office this morning. The X-rays now show a lot of new bone growth and the prognosis is sunny. Like the weather outside. Without the heat and humidity.
My wife was relieved and overjoyed to hear the good news. It meant she could drive again. If she feels up to it. And she might sleep in a real bed again. Not on the recliner. Where she's never been able to figure out how to be a contortionist and get a good night's sleep. Bailey's snoring hasn't helped either. She also has calluses on her fingers playing Slot Journey and Solitaire on her I-Pad
So when Dr. Liston came into the examination room today and asked me how my wife was doing. I told him what I'm starting to call her. My Couch Tomato. He laughed. Gently at first. Then he burst into a guffaw.