It has been two weeks since my shoulder surgery, and this past week has taught me three valuable lessons.
First, drugs like oxycodone can turn your brain into marshmallow.
Second, while progress is being made, it is indeed very slow.
And third, the time it takes to accomplish even the simplest tasks is much longer than expected.
My memories of the first week are quite hazy, a realisation I came to halfway through week two when I finally stopped taking oxycodone. You don’t fully grasp how fluid the world can be while you’re in a drug-induced haze until you emerge from it. By day ten, I transitioned from the heavy medications to Panadol, and after about 36 hours, I felt an awakening—a clarity of thought I hadn’t experienced in days.
Once off the heavy drugs, I attended work meetings, reviewed reports, wrote papers, and collaborated with my team on various projects. It was an incredible relief to feel my mental clarity return after ten days of fog. It made me think of Syd Barrett and the stories surrounding his drug-induced haze in the ’60s—how he created groundbreaking, albeit psychedelic music. Yet, as we know, the long-term effects of such substances, much like oxycodone for me, were detrimental, ultimately leading to his struggles with mental health. I realised how fleeting, thankfully, my own experience was—just ten days. I didn’t write any awesome music either!
While I don’t have an addictive personality and was able to discontinue oxycodone as soon as my pain was under control, the distinction between being on and off the drugs was stark. During that first week, I couldn’t gather coherent thoughts; I found myself sleeping through most afternoons and wandering around in a haze. If you or someone you know is struggling with substance abuse, I urge you to reach out to the National Alcohol and Other Drugs Hotline at 1800 250 015.
The second lesson I learned this week is that progress can be incredibly slow. I’m undergoing physiotherapy three times a day, which primarily consists of lifting my arm four to five inches ten times a day and swinging it out about ten degrees with a bent elbow. This routine is essential for preventing my shoulder joint from seizing up over the next six weeks. While there were minimal advances—lifting my arm four inches at the beginning of the week to five inches by its end—it’s apparent that recovery takes time.
The third realisation is how much longer everything takes when relying on only one arm. Imagine strapping your non-dominant arm to your side while trying to put on shoes or button a shirt—tasks that should take only a couple of minutes can extend to several times longer. Daily activities, from simple hygiene routines to getting dressed, have become incredibly time-consuming.
For example, getting ready in the morning—from basic ablutions to getting dressed—now takes significantly longer. I challenge you to attempt getting dressed with just one hand; a task that usually takes one minute can stretch to ten. This inefficiency accumulates throughout the day, turning simple tasks like making tea or eating dinner into exhausting endeavours. By the end of the day, I often feel like I’ve gone a few rounds with a heavyweight fighter.
Nevertheless, each day brings slight improvements, albeit slowly.
This week, I also had a follow-up appointment for a wound check. Surgeons are always concerned about post-surgery infections, so I was relieved to have the dressings removed and see that my wounds were healing well, despite the wicked bruising that will take another two to three weeks to fade. I remind myself daily: a little bit more, a little bit further, a little bit stronger. It’s true—each day, I am indeed making progress. In six weeks I get to lift one kilo. Ib 24 weeks, I can’t help but wonder how it will feel to lift 150 kg again.
