Thursday, 30 October 2014

Shouldering the Responsibility

On Monday I did a couple of hours chainsawing. I'm right-handed. Chainsaws are designed for right-handed people and most of the weight of the saw is taken by the left arm. The saw isn't a big one, but I thought it felt unusually heavy.

Tuesday I woke with a thickly nasty pain high up in my left shoulder, but I cycled twistedly to the hospital for pre-arranged physio on one ankle and two Achilles tendons. The physiotherapist, he's a good lad, isn't allowed to do anything for my shoulder because it hasn't been referred by a GP, but he put a heat bag on it and worked away on my good blessed feet. He said, If the shoulder's no better, go and see your GP.

I cycled twistedly home, took the maximum Ibuprofen and for most of the day I walked around with a hot water bottle parroting on my shoulder.

On Wednesday morning my shoulder was still bad, but a 2 week waiting list is quite a disincentive when it comes to making appointments with doctors, isn't it, so I didn't phone the surgery. Instead, about to prepare Joanne's breakfast, I thundered down the cellar steps to the freezer. At full gallop I stepped onto the cellar floor to find that between it and my foot was a door hinge grubbed out of the ashes in the woodstove on the previous day and carelessly chucked there by me. Three rusty screws were pointing upwards. It would be true to say I whimpered as I pulled out the screws, dug out the stupid frozen sausages and hauled myself back up the stairs, grabbed two plasters, hauled myself up the next stairs splishing not insignificant dots of blood all over the place, grabbed two wet wipes and asked my nurse to make it all better.

Mid morning my mate called in. He was on his way back from the hospital. He has been through some awful hard times recently and was in much worse shape than I am, so I agreed to go wooding with him today. But this morning he has phoned and postponed. Phew.

Today I have phoned my healer friend - he makes house calls, and the call taker at the doctor's, and my friend Nick, the osteopath. He's the only one who has returned my call so this afternoon I'll drive 10 miles to Garstang (of all places), and he'll fix the shoulder. Things are starting to look up. Perhaps the GP will even call me back......