Endless Session, Day 321: The Verdict
Morgan and stepdad Tom on Day 321. Photo by Kathy Welch
I was on the road again this morning, but instead of plotting a course to some far off sandy beach with a perfect right pointbreak, the destination was a few miles inland, to the office of Dr. Seth Garmradt, USC orthopedic surgeon.
Taking off my sling, I tried my best to move my arm upwards without the doctor’s help. The shooting pain once I hit 90 degrees sent it jolting back down to my side, and after a few more uncomfortable tests, he determined that it was necessary for an MRI.
Across the street I presented my order to the front desk staff, and not long after I was sliding on my back down a long and uncomfortable tube, the machine surrounding my head and body making sounds that would distress even a level-headed yogi. Having to stop halfway through and restart was not what I was hoping for, but the level of discomfort in my positioning made it necessary.
After a lunch of awkwardly trying to fork salad into my mouth with my left hand, I sat at home staring a the wall for hours, only breaking my gaze to glance at my phone and see if the ringer wasn’t working. Then I got the call.
“HOLY CRAP THAT’S AWESOME!!!” Was probably not the reaction Dr. Gamradt was expecting when he said I have a badly sprained AC joint. A month of rest, PT and very short surf sessions with help from others, I should be ok. No tear, and no surgery. The surf gods were looking down on me today, and Mom and Tom came down to push me into a few little waves. Time to start the healing.