My torn right rotator cuff.

My right arm, my throwing arm, which has been injured since late March, 2014 has seemed to make a comeback of sorts.

It was diagnosed as a torn rotator cuff and I made an appointment to have it surgically repaired, but I cancelled at the last moment. I was actively freelancing at the time and didn't want to miss the day rates.

So even though I could barely lift my wing over my head, and even though I suffered from periodic bouts of numbness in the arm, I delayed and delayed.

Around New Year's, when I sojourned to the Caribbean, I swam everyday, swimming through the pain. And while it still hurt, well, to be precise, it hurt less.

I would try to throw overhand when I took Whiskey to the beach or the park, but it was still too painful. However, as I said, the pain was beginning to abate. I could throw a rock or a ball for Whiskey to mark or chase--throwing from my elbow, not my shoulder, and though I'd wince and have to take a couple minutes to recover, I could feel the affected limb coming back.

Around April when I got the invitation to suit up for the Saraperos de Saltillo's Juegos de Viejos, I started going to the park and throwing overhand, loosely, loosely. My arm cried out for a sling after those sessions, but seemed to grow stronger each week.

And this weekend, again at the beach, I would underhand toss Whiskey's fluorescent orange float and she would beckon me to mark where it was with a stone. I'd hit the float with an overhand toss and before long, well, I had made 20 or 30 throws, some as far as a throw from the outfield.

The pain wasn't gone, but it was manageable. I could throw again.

I suppose in this there is a lesson of sorts. Of persevering through the pain. Of slowly recovering. Of not giving in to adversity.

Six years ago tomorrow, I was fired from a place after they had a big loss of business and decided my salary was more than they wanted to pay. As you'd expect, I was scared but I landed at the place and stayed for five years that was just named Agency of the Year in Cannes.

I left there 16 months ago and have spent the better part of the last 12 months at a place that was just named Network of the Year at Cannes.

This, of course, has nothing to do with my torn rotator cuff.

But it has a lot to do, somehow, with not giving up.