Yesterday, some X-rays were taken of my shoulder, and I can ring for the results halfway through next week. I don't expect them to show up anything to change my GP's view that all it needs is time to heal, though. After some discussion of certain morphine lite-based painkillers that might do the trick, it was decided not to prescribe me any as the risk of possible dependency was too great -- the same argument that condemned my stepmother to go down to her grave in agony eight years ago. Diagnosed with terminal cancer of the liver in November, she died in March; but we could only persuade the doctors to give her some morphine when she was already in extremis, so that her last two hours here on earth were comfortable. Before then, all she had to combat the pain was paracetamol.
Spring must be in the air, as I've started on a bout of cleaning and decluttering of epic proportions. I've done the floors and the windows, and have given three bin liners full of unwanted clothes and footwear and another filled with bedclothes and table linens to charity shops, yet still my wardrobe and linen cupboard seem too full to me; and I've mucked out the kitchen cabinets and thrown out two bin liners full of dried herbs and spices and packets of instant puddings/custards/sauces and the like. The best before dates on some of these read 1997!
Unfortunately now, I feel like I may be coming down with a cold either today or tomorrow.