The original version of this column first appeared in the Manx Advertiser.
I hereby stake claim for the most unlikely injury sustained anywhere this year.
Something happened to my shoulder that left me in what I at the time described, with no hint of hyperbole, as agony.
After a day of discovering that a shoulder is very hard to spray with Deep Heat when you are on your own and, also, is not the most accommodating of venues for a soothing pain relief patch, I did the typical thing of not seeking an accurate diagnosis of the shoulder injury – other than emailing a friend whose medical expertise extends to having once been treated by a doctor.
I still haven’t, at the time of writing, visited a medic. But I can reveal that while it has proven possible to move a wheelie bin without too much discomfort, placing toothpaste onto a toothbrush is currently excruciating.
Anyway, this doesn’t explain the unlikeliness of this injury, although it illustrates the silliness.
The misfortune happened while I was in the process of changing a nappy on a one-year-old. Now there are many hazards when it comes to changing a nappy, for which you are prepared. Most are usually addressed by a change of clothes afterwards.
Feeling as though a spear has been plunged through underneath your shoulder blade is not something you expect.
I think this even outranks the time a Test match cricketer was ruled out of a game after injuring his back while writing a letter.
By the time you read this, I will hopefully be feeling somewhat better*. Or I will have visited a doctor.
As it is, I rather miss having a fully functional right shoulder, although not enough to seek immediate medical attention.
To be honest, most chaps quite like having an injury every now and again to grumble about. It takes your mind off the ageing process.
Since passing the age of 40 I have already noticed that I tend to let out a groan or a sigh when getting in or out of the car – at least a yelp of pain when buttering toast makes a change.
And, if truth be known, we do all think it makes us feel we are more manly if we carry an injury with outward stoicism.
If it was real pain, we’d be whimpering and calling for the ambulance, while probably being lectured about how it was still not as painful as childbirth.
*After a couple of days of wallowing in self-pity, your correspondent discovered that his shoulder didn’t hurt quite so much. It now appears to have made a full recovery.
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