Why I Work for a Healthcare Company
Dublin, OH
December 9, 2019
Harry Truman…tired of being told that “on the one-hand” this, “but on the other hand“ that…yearned for someone to bring him a one-armed economist. This week, had he called me, he’d have had his wish.
A couple months ago…like a small trickle thru a river levee…a slight twinge began piercing my right arm whenever I crossed it over my left. The pain being almost imperceptible…and no doubt caused by some inconsequential muscle tweak…I treated it like an incoming call from an unknown number. I ignored it.
For several weeks, the ringing persisted. It grew louder and more frequent, yet never left a message, no clue to its cause. But the effect could no longer be ignored. By Thanksgiving, the levee had begun to break.
When I extend my arm sideways or backward, the pain rises rapidly, till…like the cresting of the autumnal Nile…it swamps the soft tissue between shoulder and elbow.
Pulling sleeves over my arms, a belt around my waist, or a sweater over my head produces symptoms that are the orthopedic equivalent of Axel Rose’s voice. A sudden pull of our dog on his leash, or my carry-on from under its seat, elicits the audial equivalent.
To facilitate my morning attacks on coffee and evening assaults on wine, I approach prospective chairs, seats, and sofas strategically. I seek those with tables on my left, eliminating my vulnerable right flank as I reach for my caffeinated or oenological prey.
Since rearguard movements à droite produced increasing levels of pain, I finally picked up the phone, and called the orthopedist. The good news is neither X-Ray nor exam found any joint, tendon, or muscles to be dislodged, torn, or inflamed.
But that is also the bad news, as the mystery continues to swell. With no obvious remedy, I was given at-home stretching exercises and suggestions to apply heat or ice as needed. And I am leaning much more heavily on my left hand.
It could be worse. The right-handed Thomas Jefferson wrote one of his most famous, beautiful, and lengthy letters…the dialogue between his head and his heart…entirely with his left hand.
The letter was to and about a woman he had, literally and figuratively, fallen for while in France. Like most men, he made a fool of himself trying to impress a girl by attempting more than he was physically capable.
Trying to prove his agility by playfully jumping a fence he was palpably unable to leap, his foot caught the top rail. His right wrist, and his ego, shattered upon landing. And he never played the violin again.
I’ve never played the violin. I know I can’t jump. And I only need one thumb to inflict my thoughts on defenseless recipients. But a diminished arm is nonetheless inhibiting. Without one oar, we tend to move in circles, going nowhere.
Fortunately, while I was in Atlanta the last couple weeks, my new employer found a way to keep me afloat. I arrived early this afternoon, after bumping into George this morning in the B-Concourse Crown Room at Hartsfield Airport.
Over coffee, we spread gossip about almost everyone reading this. But not yet being noon, we lacked requisite fuel to propel our aspersions. Then, I flew here, and George went to Grand Rapids. He should have come with me.
Had he done so, we would have continued shoveling our rumors and spreading our innuendo. But we could have done so in the lobby of our headquarters building, with the fuel we lacked at the airport.
While I was away last week, Cardinal Health indulged the holiday spirit, and provided a civic service. The beneficence was evident as I entered the building. Clearing the turnstile, the seasonal additions were obvious. Festive garland covered the walls. The requisite tree adorned the atrium. Seasonal musical filled the air.
And, like a star in the East, a new bar decked the hall. Each day after 4p, ice chimes against waiting glass, and beckons the faithful to evening prayers.
This is an ideal spot to wait out traffic, fan creativity, or unleash unsolicited thoughts on unsuspecting readers. And the wine selection is not bad, with a half dozen whites and at least as many reds…including Stags Leap, Alexander Valley, and even Duckhorn.
But that shouldn’t surprise. This is, after all, a healthcare company.
JD
