Now, I’ll admit that I’m quite smug about the fact that I’m reasonably fit and, as I approach my late fifties, I’m no couch potato. My resting heart rate is practically reptilian. I run at least twice a week and cycle when not running. But I can’t fathom those strange injuries that come from nowhere. How does that happen? I don’t mean the knicks and scratches we all get from time to time from failing to acknowledge an advancing blade but those “I can’t believe I did that” moments.
A few years ago I snapped the tendons in my middle finger of my right hand. I heard a distinct snap and as my finger waved around in the breeze, as it were, all I could think about as how am I going to play my guitar now. Years of fingerstyle practice down the drain. Maybe I’ll have to learn the harmonica. With a certain amount of shock and worry I cradled my finger down to A&E.
The triage nurse gave me a quizzical look. “How did you do it, sir?”
“I was changing a sheet on the bed, “ I whispered.
“Changing the bed,” I said a little louder. She typed something into her terminal trying not to smirk. I could see it. Then, with a dramatic hand clap, she shouted her colleagues.
Sheepishly I picked my way through the crutches, plaster casts and wheel chairs to the front of the queue.
For the next 3 months I was strapped to a lollipop stick which slammed into the dashboard every time I drove the car or nearly took my eye out washing and shaving. I listened to Sonny Boy Williamson records constantly.
But the lovely nurses did their job perfectly and I was back doing housework in no time.
Which brings me to yesterday. I was tucking into my lunchtime sandwich.
Not a huge sandwich – I didn’t need lifting gear or anything. It was a 2-hander though to keep the filling in – ham and cheese – jamon y queso (I’ve been learning Spanish) – and just as I was raising my lunch to contact point………..I cricked my shoulder. Damn, ouch, how did that happen? I couldn’t move it for a while. I massaged and wriggled. I had visions (“Just exactly how did you dislocate your shoulder, sir ?” “Okay, let’s get this guy patched up – he’s hungry !” ) ……..
Damn, my shoulder hurts this morning. I massaged and wriggled and took a coupla’ pills till the pain went down. But, hey, how on earth do these things happen ? It’s my sanding arm, too.
I guess I’ll treat it gently and get some deep heat spray on it. All I can say is, take care out there, folks, life’s a minefield.