Non-preferred Popularity

I am not a shy person, but by nature I am not a terribly huge fan of unnecessary attention either. I have walked through the streets of New York City and seen a mob of screaming people on the sidewalk hovering around a celebrity who is just simply and harmlessly strolling through the area. And sometimes, in these certain unannounced candid instances, I sympathize with the violation of privacy for those people.

Since I got out of the Andrews Institute last Thursday until yesterday afternoon, my arm was stationary at a 90 degree angle, covered with a lot of padded Ace bandages and fit into a black sling hanging across the front of my body. It was quite obvious that I had some sort of injury. But for the innocent onlooker, a sling is nothing out of the ordinary. Many people wear slings for all different types of injuries...a broken bone, a torn muscle, whatever. While people might recognize the sling and interpret its existence as being a sign of an injury, most don't look twice at someone walking with a sling. After all, slings aren't all that uncommon.

Yesterday afternoon my physical therapist replaced the padded Ace bandage and sling with the customary "bionic arm" that I've alluded to several times in the past. Now let me say this first before you delve any further into this blog post: I am not complaining about the bionic arm. It's about 1,000 times better than having that sling on. I hated that sling. The padding didn't allow me to maneuver my arm in any other way than a 90 degree angle. The strap caused abrasions on my neck and would constantly get tangled. The sling, while understandably necessary, was more of a nuisance than anything else. The bionic arm is a plastic prosthetic device that Velcros across the arm four times. There is a dial on the outside of the elbow that allows you to change the degree at which the device is angled...there are two different dials, one for flexion of the arm and one for extension of the arm. According to the protocol written out by the fine people at the Andrews Institute, my dials were set to 25 degrees of flexion and 100 degrees of extension. That means that the device will lock out and not allow me to bend or straighten my arm by anymore than those given degrees. The purpose of the bionic arm is to gradually ensure that within the next four to six weeks, I will be able to fully flex my arm (touch my left hand to my left shoulder) and fully extend my arm with no pain.

Physical therapy yesterday was pretty simple, lots of moisturizer for my incredibly dry skin, some light exercises for the shoulder and some gripping exercises with a stress ball that literally seem impossible to accomplish at this point. My arm is so weak that just the thought of trying to squeeze that ball 30 times with each finger individually seems like a joke, but I worked through the discomfort and did all the physical therapist told me to do. It's literally as if I have a new arm...I can't move the arm or grab anything with my hand. It is quite evident that patience, even in the early stages of the rehab, is a virtue and a necessity.

After exiting the physical therapy building yesterday afternoon, I began my experience of stepping out in public in my bionic arm. As I said, a sling is nothing special to most people. But the bionic arm is a different story. The plastic prosthetic device isn't a typical contraption for most injuries, and most people outside of the baseball world haven't had any direct experience with Tommy John surgery. In the past 24 hours, I have been asked the following questions several times:

• "What happened?"
• "Does it hurt?"
• "Can you move it?"
• "How long do you have that on?"
• "Can you pitch still?"
• "Who is Tommy John?"

There are probably a few more questions, but I feel as though these provide a good sample size. I answer each question politely, patiently weighing the extent to which I should play up the injury to see how much sympathy I can get from the other person I'm conversing with. All the while, there are countless more people who are out in these public places along with me that simply do a double take or stare at my arm. I honestly can't tell if they are just curious or sympathizing, because some of the looks I get make me feel as if I look like The Terminator.

I suppose if the public perception of my appearance is the worst thing occurring in my life up to this point then things are going well in terms of the recovery process. But I do find it funny sometimes how differently you are treated under certain circumstances...my bionic arm = a social oddity.