*the cool
some things of very little consequence

on the dotted line

So, the shoulder is improving, but at such a slow pace, it's like watching trees grow. Day to day, you don't notice it, but somehow it happens. (Or so I hope).

The last time I went to the sports physician in the fancy, metal-scaled, Frank-Gehry-rip-off clinic, she referred me to a surgeon, whose specialty is The Shoulder, so he could tell me if it needs an operation.
But every means of communication has failed in the attempt to communicate with this illusive man - post, fax, email, smoke signals, thought transfer and most recently, hand-delivery, in person, to his pigeon hole - all these only resulted in his secretary denying all knowledge. I don't know how many times I rang the various secretaries trying to just make the letter go through. It seemed really, really extra mad because his "suite" is only upstairs from the referring physician's room.
That's right, it's in the same building.
Strange, I know:


I am only theoretically annoyed about this because, in a way, I don't really want be "seen" by him. Maybe this is unfair, but I fear surgeons see a problem and want to carve cut you up slice and dice solve it with surgery, rather than any other kind of intervention. Is this how he'll "see" me, as a floating, disembodied shoulder?

If anyone has any insight to offer on this (or any other matter), please pass it on.

[Aside: do you think surgeons are secretly embittered because their title is Mister, instead of Doctor? I always wonder about that. All those years of study, operating on and explaining things pointlessly to semi-conscious people, with none of that instant reverential respect that the Dr prefix inspires? I would be a bit miffed, I think].

This morning though, the stars must have been arranged in the pattern of a sub-scapularis, or maybe the moon was in the House of Surgery,  for finally I got my appointment to see Mr ShoulderMan, for later in the month. Unless I myself am repelled from his door, of course!

Time will tell.


Womb For Improvement

I genuinely believe 90% of a doctor's secretary's job is to act as gatekeeper and prevent all but the most persistent patient from getting through.


You know the calling surgeons Mister thing is just on your side of the pond, right? Over here in the USA, we call them Dr. They still act like that, though, so it doesn't help! Good luck and feel better soon!


Oh, like Cerberus with a weekly planner. I get it now. Hrmmm.

Thank you, Lorin.
I wonder why we have the Mr title here? Some ancient hangover from when they had hacksaws and pliers as instruments, maybe.


I have friends who are doctors, and I tell you, they all LONG to be senior enough to be a MR. Misters get to have secretaries. It's a sort of peculiarly Anglo-Irish reverse snobbery thing. Doctors had a degree in medicine, and therefore did medicine and NOT surgery, and surgeons had a practical apprenticeship in the art of hacking bits off and were absolutely NOT allowed to call themselves doctors. So now that we've all come to our senses and greed being a surgeon is actually really rather special and difficult and boiling tar really should not be involved at any stage, they sniffily cling to Mr and set up patient-repelling force-fields, so the mere DOCTOR's opinion can bounce repeatedly off it.

Or something like that.

Here's hoping he'll decide your shoulder is fine as is, and that your shoulder agrees with him.


Thanks May.
You know so many, many things!

How fascinating and mind-boggling, the machinations of that kind of reverse snobbery.
"Boiling tar"! Not so bad to be modern, though, eh?

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