Those who know me well are aware that I struggle at times with a bum shoulder. It dates back to an intramural sports injury in my tech school days. Early in 2015, I slipped on the ice and slammed my elbow, tearing up the beautiful shoulder surgery work I’d had done in 1997. After trying unsuccessfully to rehab it over the months that followed, I finally had to go back under the knife this past fall.
As I was recovering from that in recent months, I thought of several stories related to that initial injury back in the early 1980s that any technician (or former technician) will likely appreciate, but that likely will elicit a cringe from those currently responsible for the health and safety of shop employees.
My first surgery to fix the dislocated shoulder was in the days before the use of scopes; it was a full-open operation. It would be eight weeks of recovery and rehab before I could return to my job at the dealership body shop.
As I walked into the shop my first day back, the owner came up to me in a panic and said, “Boy, am I glad to see you. I’ve got a customer who is screaming at me. I need the back-end of this car painted ASAP.”
“No problem,” I told him.
I believe it was a 1980 Bonneville. A big car. Back in that day, my spraygun of choice was a Binks model 7. Those who have used one know that when the cup is filled, that gun had some weight to it. As soon as I started the motion of spraying, I realized there was no way my shoulder was going to handle it. There was just too much weight, holding it out in front of me, to spray.
Today, an occupational therapist might have helped devise a solution to enable me to do the work. But back then, it was more what every good technician knows: Necessity is the mother of innovation.
So I got a bungee cord and hooked it to the back of my belt, pulled it over my shoulder, and attached it to the gun. I was glad I was the only one working at the time, because it must’ve looked ridiculous, but it took enough of the gun’s weight off my shoulder that I could spray the car. It actually worked out very well.
But several days after I was back to work, the shoulder was starting to really bother me, so I went back to the doctor. He gave me a cortisone shot and told me to wait 24 hours before I returned to work. So I did.
One of my first jobs upon my return – after yet another missed day of work – involved putting a suspension into one of the greatest cars of that time period: An AMC Gremlin. I was basically bench-pressing the thing with one hand while using a torque gun in the other hand to attach it.
Suddenly I felt a little pop in my right arm. I wondered what that was, but it didn’t seem to hurt, so I kept going and didn’t worry about it. A couple of days later, I was on the phone and looked down at my arm and the bicep was about twice the size of normal. The doctor told me I’d ruptured my muscle and needed surgery immediately.
Employees today are hopefully better trained and outfitted with state-of-the-art equipment to avoid such injuries. Back in the “old days,” I knew after already missing eight weeks of work, there was no way I could miss another six or more weeks to recover from yet another surgery.
I overcome the popped bicep without surgery, and still use it for “show-and-tell” (“I’ll show it to you and tell you not to do what I did after sustaining a significant injury”), but I should have taken the time to heal.
Some guys carry an old war wound with them. Me, I still have my old Gremlin injury.
