I’m wearing one of my truck ties as Tie o’ the Day, and I’ve got my gear shift Cufflinks o’ the Day for your viewing pleasure.
I’m contemplating my truck. Specifically, I’m thinking a blasphemous thought: It might be time to sell or trade in my beloved 98 Isuzu Hombre. I can’t believe I’m even considering the idea. But I’m not able to shift it right now, and maybe forever. Oh, Hombre is doing well for its age. My right shoulder, on the other hand, is not.
I’ve had arthritis in my shoulders for over decade, and moving the gear shift has been no problem. But whatever is going on with my shoulder now is something completely different. It hurts constantly with stabby, near-shocky bolts of pain. It feels like it wants to dislocate itself. I have a doc appointment next week, so I’ll get to the bottom of it, but my shoulder is as old as I am– and we all know what that means. Maybe it can be fixed. Maybe it’s just a new, unwelcome development of age. For right now, I’m more upset about not being able to drive Hombre than I am about my painful shoulder.
I never knew how important my right shoulder is. For example, I sleep on my right side, so I have not slept well since I can’t sleep on my right shoulder. Also, “my” side of the loveseat is on the right side, which means my drink and notebook and pen and nail file are to the right side of the loveseat. The pain in my right shoulder prohibits me from retrieving my drink, etc. from that side. Suzanne and I have had to switch butt-sides, so I can sit on the left to use my left arm.
I don’t know about you, but it’s a big deal to switch furniture sides, whether you’re switching places on the loveseat, the bed, or at the kitchen table. We have our seats. We have our places. We like it like that. I have no idea why people are like that, but we are.
Damn shoulder. I don’t want to not drive my truck. 😭