I Could Lie…
My left shoulder aches, a dull throb that shoots pain down my arm and across my shoulder blades if I put pressure on it, or try to raise my arm higher than my chest. I’m not telling you this to garner sympathy, nor am I looking for a quick fix. I’m just saying that it hurts.
What happened you ask? Well, I could lie…I could lie and tell you it’s an old dirt bike injury after I fell down an abandoned mine shaft while competing in an enduro in the Mohave desert as a kid.
I could lie and tell you I injured it skiing in shark and octopus infested waters (My father may dispute that fact, but I can still remember the whish-whoosh, whish-whoosh as these creatures wrung their fins and tentacles, eyed me from the murky depths, and said in their Wizard of Oz witchy voice, “I’ll get you, my pretty.”).
I could lie and say that when I practiced veterinary medicine, a Chihuahua went all Cujo on me and wrenched my shoulder out of its socket. (Yes, I know there are some good Chihuahuas out there, so if using the breed as an illustration upsets you, you can insert ‘rabid raccoon’ or ‘saber-tooth tiger’ in its place. I’m sure either one would be almost as bad.).
I could lie and say one of the horses I trim kicked me in the shoulder or that my Missouri Fox Trotter spooked at a cougar on the trail, (For all of the cougar lovers out there you can insert ‘mouse’ or ‘butterfly’ because to my horse they are one and the same) dumped me and left me for dead.
As I sit here at my computer in my tattered sweatpants, the rain coming down, nursing a Dr. Pepper and pickling my liver with analgesics I realize I cannot lie.
The embarrassing truth is I injured my shoulder while sitting at my desk, in a four-foot square corner of my master bedroom editing a manuscript a publisher has requested. It seems I sit slightly unbalanced and rest light pressure on my left arm when I reach for the mouse or contemplate word choices. Embarrassing. True.
But I cannot lie…it hurts.