A few weeks ago I noticed a depression in my right bicep. I've never been confused with Charles Atlas -- (that reference shows my age, but there's no way I'm going to refer to Arnold or any of the other contemporary bulging geeks) -- I've never been confused with Charles Atlas but heretofore my arms have bulged in a modest but pleasingly proper manner. There's been no slacking off, no slumping, no dents where there should be bumps -- so a couple of months ago when I saw a dent in my upper arm I was suitably alarmed. So much so that after a few weeks I mentioned it to dw who said "That's weird." And still later I asked John G. (climbing partner and anatomy teacher/author) -- who looked at it and said "It looks like you've torn off the long head of your bicep".
Who knew. The bicep is called a bicep instead of a unicep or monocep or cep, because it has two attachments on your shoulder. I didn't know that and now I've had a learning moment -- I know even more about anatomy -- I know the bicep has a long head and a short head. I know that neither the "bi" nor the "long head" nor the "short head" has any sexual connotation whatsoever. Regardless of what anyone might claim or think.
Since I waited so long to see a doctor about the problem it's really too late to re-attach the tendon, and it apparently isn't necessary anyway. My arm cramps with little or no provocation but I'm seeing a physical therapist and getting some exercises which along with time should take care of the cramping.
Several people have asked if it hurt when I tore it and it probably did but I must have ignored the event as another sign of aging and went on with my business. I don't remember doing the damage.
In other news there isn't much. I'm getting ready to paint the house and have arranged with sons and grandsons for help. I haven't chosen any colors yet. dw said she trusts my taste and isn't interested in looking at colors. (Her color choices: "Think of shades of dirt.") I'm leaning toward something similar to what we have now (redwood, with white and steel blue trim) but I'll go brighter than the steel blue trim.
I was asked if I had found out what the barge with white tents is all about. I haven't, but if I ever do, I'll post it.
Books: "The Autobiography of Mark Twain" (ed. Harriet Elinor Smith) At 700+ pages (volume 1) I plan to some selective reading. I read the early abridged version some years ago and to be frank it was a little dull. I hope this is more interesting. The 700 pages reminds me: Prince William Henry, Duke of Gloucester and Edinburgh (upholding the fine intellectual traditions of English royalty) said -- on the occasion of receiving a copy of "The Decline and Fall Of the Roman Empire" -- "Another damned thick book! Always scribble, scribble, scribble! Eh, Mr. Gibbon?"
And speaking of dull autobiographies by famous writers, Tennessee Williams' effort (I don't remember the title) just might be the prize winner. A summary (as I recall): "And then when I was in New Orleans I met this MARVELOUS young man who was SO GOOD LOOKING. And then I went to St. Louis where I met this MARVELOUS young man who was SO GOOD LOOKING." Casanova and Anais Nin wrote about their sex lives and made it sort of interesting (largely, I suspect, because they lied) Most writers can't manage that trick. At least Twain isn't likely to think we will be interested in what he did with his genitals. And so it goes. DA
Who knew. The bicep is called a bicep instead of a unicep or monocep or cep, because it has two attachments on your shoulder. I didn't know that and now I've had a learning moment -- I know even more about anatomy -- I know the bicep has a long head and a short head. I know that neither the "bi" nor the "long head" nor the "short head" has any sexual connotation whatsoever. Regardless of what anyone might claim or think.
Since I waited so long to see a doctor about the problem it's really too late to re-attach the tendon, and it apparently isn't necessary anyway. My arm cramps with little or no provocation but I'm seeing a physical therapist and getting some exercises which along with time should take care of the cramping.
Several people have asked if it hurt when I tore it and it probably did but I must have ignored the event as another sign of aging and went on with my business. I don't remember doing the damage.
In other news there isn't much. I'm getting ready to paint the house and have arranged with sons and grandsons for help. I haven't chosen any colors yet. dw said she trusts my taste and isn't interested in looking at colors. (Her color choices: "Think of shades of dirt.") I'm leaning toward something similar to what we have now (redwood, with white and steel blue trim) but I'll go brighter than the steel blue trim.
I was asked if I had found out what the barge with white tents is all about. I haven't, but if I ever do, I'll post it.
Books: "The Autobiography of Mark Twain" (ed. Harriet Elinor Smith) At 700+ pages (volume 1) I plan to some selective reading. I read the early abridged version some years ago and to be frank it was a little dull. I hope this is more interesting. The 700 pages reminds me: Prince William Henry, Duke of Gloucester and Edinburgh (upholding the fine intellectual traditions of English royalty) said -- on the occasion of receiving a copy of "The Decline and Fall Of the Roman Empire" -- "Another damned thick book! Always scribble, scribble, scribble! Eh, Mr. Gibbon?"
And speaking of dull autobiographies by famous writers, Tennessee Williams' effort (I don't remember the title) just might be the prize winner. A summary (as I recall): "And then when I was in New Orleans I met this MARVELOUS young man who was SO GOOD LOOKING. And then I went to St. Louis where I met this MARVELOUS young man who was SO GOOD LOOKING." Casanova and Anais Nin wrote about their sex lives and made it sort of interesting (largely, I suspect, because they lied) Most writers can't manage that trick. At least Twain isn't likely to think we will be interested in what he did with his genitals. And so it goes. DA
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