My shoulder has been aching for about a month now. So, I finally called over to the orthopedic place that treated the ankle I crushed in Mexico and asked to see their resident Shoulder Dude. (That’s what you ask for when you call orthopedic doctors, because all their specialties are completely unpronounceable).
First, an x-ray. This was my first tip off that I am old and beleaguered because the x-ray technician didn’t even ask me once if I was pregnant. Usually they make you swear up and down that you haven’t had sex in at least 30 days to prove there are no little beans growing, but this dude didn’t even give me a second glance.
I am so old.
Then, when the x-rays proved there were no broken bones, the doc had we move may arm every which way from Sunday. Push here, pull there. Does that hurt? No. How about this? A little. Now this? JESUS H. CHRIST, YES!
Diagnosis? Rotator Cuff Tendinitis.
In layman’s terms?
I am old.
He kept saying stuff like, “when people reach a certain age,” and “this is not uncommon for people at your stage of life.” What the hell? I am 37!
And apparently old.
So, then I proceeded to get my first cortisone shot ever. In my SHOULDER. Talk about a weird sensation. A needle full of fluid filling in all the space under that bony cap up there.
And then he prescribed me a month of physical therapy. Told me to build up my strength so this doesn’t happen again. Because, know what he thinks caused it? SLEEPING. So, I need to do physical therapy to build up shoulder strength to overcome the rigors of SLEEPING.
Fuck. I *am* old.