On Tuesday morning I woke up and it felt like I'd slept on my right arm so long that the whole shoulder had gone to sleep. When I moved, it felt like I had toxic sludge moving up and down my arm and back. Yuck. I went climbing that night anyway. Had no issues with strength and felt like the exercise would help clear out my arm.
However, every night since then, the pain wakes me in the middle of the night and the sludge shifts and attacks unexpectedly throughout the day and it's been miserable.
I still went running with the dog Tuesday and Thursday mornings. (I've been meaning to post about the running thing. Angie mentioned podrunner.com and I downloaded his interval training "First Day to 5k" and have been using it every other day ever since. I take the dog and the 'run' only takes 10 minutes more than walking her would. The sad truth is that running has nothing to do with wanting to be healthy or whatever, it's purely a desire to get the nice lean build that most runners have. Yup. Vanity is a much bigger motivator for me than health. Sad, but true. It also might relate to a quick prayer a month ago or so, "Jesus, you've got to change my mind so I get in shape. I just don't care, but I'm starting to hate how I look." Totally tangential post, the ways God uses our crazy minds to motivate us.)
Anyway, my Dad was still here as I pouted around full of toxic doses of pain, "Did you consult your doctor?" he asked in concern.
"Dad, I live with one!"
I suspect Jrex thought it was a bit in my head and I was being a little over dramatic. Since that would be the first time in our marriage I've EVER dramatized, I don't know why he might suspect such a thing.
Saturday morning, I called one of my best friends. She's a massage therapist and asked me a different set of questions:
"Have you been doing anything on a regular basis that might have added up to the point where you suddenly felt the pain? Especially a new activity?"
Hmm...like running with a dog who likes to think she's The Great Squirrel Hunter of All Time and has to chase after each bugger she sees until she yanks up short on the end of the leash? Do you mean that sort of pulling for 30 minutes every other day?
After her diagnosis, Jrex did a series of muscle strength tests to figure out what I'd damaged. Looks like it's the top of my right shoulder (the deltoid, to be precise). I spent much of yesterday afternoon looking for a hands-free leash system and a good harness for the dog. I now know far more than I ever wanted about weird sports like skijoring and the Iditarod, but still haven't found one I'm ready to buy. She's a weird shape and has a very pointy chest-bone. Most harnesses look uncomfortable for her build.
Now I know I've become one of those dog people.