#*&%!

Since Monika posted about her alll-nighter, I guess I'll join the fray. It's 5:04 a.m. right now. I went to bed at about 1:00 a.m. No, I don't have insomnia and no, it's not freezing outside causing the walls to go 'pang' as they did at Monika's, but nevertheless I'm up. It's my #*&%! shoulder that's the problem.

For a while, my left shoulder has been bothering me. It started as a range of motion thing. If I moved it too far in one direction, it hurt like heck. Okay, I can adjust. Avoid moving that way. Fine. Not really that big a deal. Maybe this will pass.

Nope.

Then it started building up tension in the muscle before adjusting and popping a bit. Sort of like when static builds in a stereo speaker. You sort of notice it as it builds to an audible buzz and then *pop* and its energy releases. Only in the case of the shoulder, the build up hurts. But again, it was livable. Move in the right way, manipulate the joint a bit, and *pop!* the pain is gone and all is right with the world.

Fine. I can adapt.

But the shoulder had other plans. Each time I adapted, it would pull a Dr. Phil as though it was dealing with a misbehaving child and "up the price of poker." Instead of providing the satisfying *pop* and subsequent pain relief, it now just builds to a peak and then aches like heck-fire, making the whole arm feel as though it's about to fall off.

Notice how I'm now speaking of it as though it's an independent entity? That may have something to do with the fact that my right arm is fed up with this mess and feels like chopping the left one off just to be done with the problem. Or maybe I'm just beginning to hallucinate due to lack of proper rest.

Anyway, now we're to the point that I can only manage to sleep for about four hours at a time before the darned thing wakes me up. Moaning in pain, usually. The cat wonders what the heck is going on. If I had a bed mate, he would probably be irritated as heck. That would be my ex-husband's reaction anyway. I suppose a different person might react with more concern than irritation, but that's just a guess, not something I've experienced.

I probably should have gone to a doctor about this before now. But I don't really have a doctor other than my gynecologist, who is ill-equipped to deal with this sort of issue. Last week, I did finally reach the point where not going to a doctor ceased to be an option. Ibuprophen only does so much and lack of sleep starts to wear on my sanity. Thus, I have an appointment with an Osteopath on Thursday morning. Shoud be interesting. Hopefully will bring some modicum of relief.

In the meantime, I'm up. Again. I'll head to the couch soon and probably end up falling asleep there in a propped up position, which seems to hurt a bit less. It seems that gravity and being prone is a combination that's not conducive to a pain-free shoulder. Remember how Mel Gibson could throw his shoulder out of the socket at will in the Lethal Weapon movies? It's sort of like that, only the shoulder is in control, not me, and I haven't tried ramming against walls to "fix" it. Although I confess the idea has crossed my addled mind.

The thing is, I'm right-handed. So why is my left shoulder the one that's hurting? It's a mystery to me. One that, hopefully, the Osteopath will help me solve on Thursday. Because I have lots of work (aka, typing) and knitting to do. And my worst fear is that I'll be told to stop doing both -- even temporarily.

Ellie says, "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"