A significant setback

I've often joked in my modeling reports about challenges and setbacks, like unexpected Navy football games or the lack of the proper wine pairings, but this time I am facing a new kind of setback and I don't quite know what to do about it.

"The Boys" have played a prominent role in many of my reports, and have now become a main character in today's story.  Rowan, whom we call "little dog," is a full-energy 4 year-old, 65 pound, male Irish Setter.  In the background of the photo is Sully (formally styled as Suleiman the Magnificent); a 6-year-old, 120 pound Anatolian Shepherd Dog.

Napping in the Royal Apartments

Sully is the leader of the pack, and like his eponymous forebear, considers himself ruler of a vast domain. Much to the consternation of the royal bodyguards and Keepers of the Exchequer, he loves to explore said domain on long private jaunts which universally begin with an incompletely latched gate or door.  

Inspecting the domain. (Actually, trying to sniff out an open gate latch).

So, last Monday evening, after a line of thundershowers passed, I spied Sully dashing for what looked like an open gate.  I plotted the intercept courses and determined that closing the gate would be a smarter choice than trying to tackle a 120 pound guided missile approaching terminal velocity.  About four steps in, my leather-soled shoes lost adhesion on the wet decking and I went down.  Hard. I took most of the impact on my well-padded thigh and hip.  The rest I took on my right forearm. I didn't feel anything specific pop, but my shoulder didn't feel right.  It hurt.  It hurt a lot.  I saw stars.  No I saw galaxies, maybe whole universes.  I could have even seen Ezekiel's wheels.  (Oh, and the gate was actually closed all along...)

The arm wasn't working right, that was for sure, but I couldn't feel any point tenderness and I could move all the joints.  Whew!  That's no so bad I thought, but overnight I couldn't find any position of comfort.  In the morning, I realized I still could not lift my arm forward or outward at the shoulder.  I messaged my doctor and should have recognized that not being able to raise my arms raised some red flags when his reply started with "Yikes!"  The diagnostic journey (and the narcotics) began.  The plain x-rays on Tuesday showed no bony injury.  Yay!  An ultrasound followed on Friday.  

An hour or so after the ultrasound, my pager went off, instructing me to call my internist.  He started with, "You know I wasn't going to page you with a normal."  I replied, "Yeah, I know."  He continued with the morbid excited fascination that only true health-care nerds appreciate,  "You tore your supraspinatus tendon so thoroughly that the muscle rolled up like a window shade!"  Below is not my ultrasound, but it is exactly how mine looked.  I've also added some labels on a second copy to guide the novice to some key anatomic landmarks.

Image courtesy of radiopaedia.org  

with anatomic guidance...

So at this point my right arm has all the functionality of T. rex's.  Fortunately, my elbow and hand are fine, so I can do some small scale things.  That's allowed me to make progress on the Mustang, which now has all the landing gear and doors in place. 

The Corsair has also seen progress with gear and doors in place, along with complete decals and most of the weathering.  The gear needs a little touch up, and the wheels need to go on, but it is close to being done.

Unfortunately, the dinosaurian arm syndrome means I won't be able to drive to the Huntsville show in 2 weeks, so unless I can snag a ride with a club-mate, these graduates of the Shelf of Doom may end up being all dressed up with no where to go, at least until later in the fall.

The good news is that there will be plenty of time for modeling while I am out on sick leave after the surgery to repair the shoulder...  I guess that will be some "high" flying modeling.  

Hmm..., now that'd be a theme: Spifire HF.VII, Ju-86R, U-2, Canberra PR.9, etc.