Have you seen my new shoulder? This is a picture of it. Haven’t got it yet, just going round the showrooms doing a bit of shoulder-shopping. I think the silver’s nice really. Though black might be closer to the colour of my soul and definitely my heart, I like the more bling look of shiny things. I’m going for the Hokey Kokey 2000 model, with four-barrel carburettors and a turbo-charger, wide wheels, leather trim and 4Gb of WiFi.

The time has come, the day has dawned, the end is nigh. The old shoulder has served its purpose (ie; moving my right arm around) for 64 years and shall be retired with full… dishonour. Because basically, having consulted the finest of consultants in consultation, we have collectively concluded a catastrophic degree of fuckage in the region. The multiple dislocations suffered many moons ago have produced a horrible degree of Osteo-arthritis. In the joint. Which really is no longer much of a ‘joint’, more a big, horrible tangle of bone-on-bone and shit. Though apparently, the insistent playing of tennis in recent and present times, has actually helped. I thought he’d say ‘tennis!!! Are you fucking insane?!?!’, but he didn’t. He said it has kept every thing around the shit-shoulder working better than it would have. Ooooooohhhh, that’s good. How often does stubborn insistence and total ignorance in the face of all common sense result in medical benefit?

And its easy. You don’t even need an anaesthetic. Just an aspirin, a whisky and you bite on a bit of wood, saying ‘cut me!’ Like they used to perform orthopaedic surgery in Mutiny on the Bounty. I want a ‘retro-op’. Ok, I want all the drugs that exist, all free, whilst the insurance is paying. And then just a few… months? Weeks? Years???, of slings, immobilisation, restricted use, resting and other horrendously disabling restraint and I’ll be back…

Well, not just ‘on court’ but back. Not having to be careful picking up a cup, not having agony whilst brushing my teeth, taking off shirts, lifting a child, reaching for… anything.

I’ve had another scan and await more input. And then… and then…

WE CAN RE-BUILD HIM!!! Better than before. Bionic Man lives!!!, in NW11.

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx