Disagree. Three year olds learn. They are curious. They have not yet learned prejudice. They usually like animals.
I have torn my rotator cuff. Had to pick things up with left hand. Awkward but no shakes. And I have been steadier walking down BART steps in high heels after drinking a strong cocktail.
Hope you get that sorted out soon...that's a long healing process after surgery...a friend of mine had it done last year
My poor wife tore both her rotator cuffs in both shoulders. She had one surgically reattached but with no significant improvement. She chose not to have the same surgery on the other shoulder in spite of my protestations. She just lives with it.
My father slipped on a slippery rock while wearing dress shoes at the lower Deschutes river, fell in and drowned. I was in Vietnam at the time and the incident changed the entire trajectory of my life. Whatever you do, do not wear slippery shoes.
The only exercise he gets, by his own admission, is by his very odd looking hand gestures during his campaign rallies. https://www.marketwatch.com/story/t...d-trump-could-burn-waving-his-arms-2016-09-14
Sorry man. I know how it feels to lose a father. I can't imagine how that must have felt to lose him that way.
If you fish you must know how you treat some fish by hitting them over the head with something hard. Sometimes they don't die but sort of rattle so fast that it's like a buzz and their only stunned. Well, that was me as I stood in front of my CO, commanding officer. Until I left the country and came back home, I just did my job by going through the motions. Someone asked me if I needed help the day I left the country, you've got to get a bunch of shots and check out of every different outfit in the major city I was in at the time, Da Nang. I told him that I would do it myself and he then left. I kicked myself because I really needed help getting prepared to leave. I toughed it out but it was hard because all I wanted to do was cry and I couldn't. We landed in Guam for refueling and I had not found what we called a cunt hat because it was sort of floppy and you could fold it. I was sitting in the Air Force terminal with a bunch of other guys all of whom had suffered tragedies at home when an MP comes over and orders me to not forget my hat, cover, again. I thought "You asshole, you." Got to McClellan Air Force Base near Sacramento and there were barrels outside at the entrance from getting off the plane. There was a sign saying that if we had any contraband we could leave it in the barrel and no one would bother us about it. I had nothing so ignored it. Then, we all got the news that the Kakis we had been issued were no longer approved and we would have to be outfitted with dress greens. Can you imagine, a large plane full of grieving soldiers who had to be bused many miles away to some Army base to have tailors measure us for dress green suits which we had to wait hours to have them all made and then issued to us. Then get bused back to McClellan. I didn't know whether to grieve or get angry. The grief took over. On the way from Guam to McClellan I listed to an audio channel on the plane. Damn, they played a sad song about some guy losing his father. Never told anyone that part. My step father paid all the burial expenses. The Red Cross gave me money to get from McClellan to my house in SW Portland by commercial aircraft and then told me to pay it back. Geez, I thought the Red Cross was there to help when you need help. I think my corporal pay was about $175/month. I was a spec. 4 which was the same rank as a corporal. Because of my service over there I'm condemned to a lifetime of getting my arm jabbed six times a week. The inside of my arm where they stick the needles is so scarred that it looks gross. You'd think they'd treat us better because of the dialysis but we all get treated shabbily. I have trouble getting them to provide transportation. They want my wife to take me and bring me home but because I'm tied to a wheel chair they have to pick me up and take me home. But it's not that simple, they screw up and get the ambulance service to pick me up at the wrong time about once every couple of months average at random intervals. Then the VA has a mini bus service that takes me home but they take me home at random times. They're supposed to tell me when but they often fail to tell me what time. Then I have to go down to the lobby where I've waited anywhere from as soon as I get there to 3 1/2 hours of waiting. Yeah, it's a pisser and they don't seem to care. As for the dialysis, there are about four of the staff that I will not allow to poke me because they hurt me a great deal but there are about 8 that do an excellent job and they do a remarkably better job that private dialysis services such as DaVita. So, the sleep lab and transportation suck big time but everything else is better than I ever had on the outside. It took about 40 out of the last 50 years that I've been using the VA hospital to go from disgraceful to excellent. When they were still not too good, they were giving me a cheaper and inferior insulin. I blame this for damaging my kidneys such that I now need dialysis. But what can you do? So, I go there in a very cheerful mood. Now they've taken away my CPAP because they're afraid it might cause me to somehow spread Covid-19. I need the CPAP because I'm paralyzed on one half of my diaphragm and I just can't get enough air when laying on my back. So, now I use oxygen and can't recline fully which use to allow my to partially sleep through hell. Well, there you have it, my life story. And to think, I haven't even told you how I shook hands with Richard Nixon and John Kennedy.
