Granted, Dad hasn’t reached that amount of scientific replacements in his body (but, to be fair, he didn’t suffer a terrible aerospace accident, either), but Dad is well on his way after his most current operation on his other shoulder.
I got off the phone with Dad a little while ago. He’s back at home battling the more challenging situation than the post-operative pain and upcoming rehab…he is fighting his very nature. Stubborn impatience is the only threat to a successful recovery and improved quality of life.
To illustrate, Dad was mentioning to me (I won’t call it complaining), that the new computer I helped him set up was frustrating him because he couldn’t get to his copied files, either because they wouldn’t open properly or they were not in an expected location.
Please note: this is the “next day” after the operation and the desktop computer is on the other side of the house from his bedroom. Where he should be resting. With his shoulder in a brace. And moving as little as possible. Hmmm.
Dad and I have many common traits, the most pertinent being a love of outdoor activities. Because of this, Dad has had a few operations for “stuff” wearing out (shoulders, knee, etc.). I have had my own acknowledgement of lifelong activity, with my own shoulder surgery some years ago. The “catalysts” of the father and son surgeries illustrate both the shared bond we have as well as life’s irony in general.
The incident that finally caused me to pull the trigger on getting my left shoulder worked on was a fishing trip with Dad in the Everglades. As a lover of fly casting, that is my preference for fresh water fishing. A great weather day and spending time with Dad was humiliatiangly frustrated by my inability to bring the fly rod back over my shoulder to cast. That was the last straw for me. If you can’t even enjoy fishing with your Dad, you have to do something.
Similarly, Dad, my niece and I were out on a party fishing boat some weeks back and Dad was struggling to reel in a fish due to his own shoulder woes. He eventually handed the rod to me (echoing an action I’m sure I did to him when I was but a tadpole) which made us both unhappy. Dad had already come to the conclusion he needed to have the shoulder worked on before then, but that incident convinced me to urge him on as well.
I’m looking forward to Dad’s eventual recovery. I’ve promised that our first get-together post rehab will be a fishing trip, fresh or salt water at his choice. It will be fun to have the “Fishing Daniels” back at full strength.
More than that even…we’ll be better, stronger and faster than before!