On a Limb
In June last year my left shoulder started to ache. By July it was really beginning to play up and there were things I couldn’t do anymore. Like sleep. I like to curl up on my left side or lie on my back with my arms above my head but since it hurt like hell to lie on my left side and I could no longer raise my left arm above my head those options weren’t possible. In August I gave up and saw my GP who confirmed, as I suspected, that I had a frozen shoulder and prescribed hefty painkillers and a course of physio.
Since I’m quite good at taking care of myself I was pretty miffed to be struck down by something completely out the blue (yes, there are much worse things out there, I know) and it was especially frustrating that even after lots of hard work with Margot the Marvellous Physio that some movements weren’t coming back. Without an operation, Margot told me, I’d be looking at all kinds of problems one of which was muscle wastage. Looking at my nice new bingo wing I agreed to get myself referred to an orthopaedic consultant asap.
After six months of waiting I finally got an appointment this week so, leaving Hotel H’s latest guests to amuse themselves, (it’s been a busy time at Hotel H) Tom and I made the long trek to hospital. After more x-rays I was ushered in to see a rather serious Asian doctor. At least, I hope he was a doctor because he didn’t introduce himself but he did have a nurse with him. Anyway, my new friend twiddled my right arm and then, less successfully, my left, before he finally smiled.
‘Very restricted!’ he announced.
I didn’t roll my eyes and say, ‘Ooh, gosh – you don’t say!’ which is just as well because the next bit sounded very painful and I didn’t particularly want it performed without an anaesthetic.
‘This, I will do for you!’ he proclaimed, with a flourish.
I mentioned that I was training for a half-marathon in October and didn’t particularly want to miss it and was met with frank stares of disbelief… what I’m trying to work out is whether it’s the thought of me running a half-marathon or my innocent belief that I might actually rise to the top of a waiting list before then which caused them.
And finally…Auntie Joanie is holding on but poor Ma has heard that her eldest brother, Uncle Bill, is also very sick. Uncle Bill is my Australian uncle who went walkabout in Sydney and turned up, unannounced at my door in Wales. What a sad time it is.
Image is No.VI from Tom Tomos's series of sea prints