Wednesday 14th July 2021

I can remember the exact moment I hurt my arm the first time. It was just before Christmas 2014, and I was visiting a gearbox factory in Witten, Germany. I had a heavy carry on bag with wheels, the bag weight more than what I put in it. Anyway, on the way from the gatehouse to the offices, it was too rough to wheel the bag, so I carried it and hyper-extended my arm, which then moved down my back.

It took six months to fix, I had tennis elbow, even though I haven't watched Wimbledon for a decade by then. Anyway, at about the same I got restricted movement in my shoulder which meant I had to sleep in a different position, half laying on my arm.

And it is that last part, I think that has caused long term damage. Or pain. Or both.

Anyway, two years ago I was carrying the camera, macro lens and ring flash when I did something to the same shoulder. Its not really got any better. I mean, most of the time its bearable, and I get sleep, enough to get by, but last year it hurt to turn over, so much it used to wake me up. And despite several rounds of physio/poking and prodding, the guy suggested tests to find out what was wrong as nothing seemed to be working.

In April I went to see the consultant, then in May I had an x-ray, MRI and ultrasound. Then heard nothing. So, I called and made an appointment, and on Wednesday I would find out what was wrong, and if my shoulder could be fixed.

In order to attend the appointment at three, it required a major operation so I could have a car and Jools could get to work, as she is doing two people's work still. Instead of renting a car, we borrowed Jen's car, we collected that Tuesday evening, so I could drive the Audi. On top of that, Jools would come home that eening, have dinner and then go with Jen and Sylv and John to the circus which has set up next to the Duke of York's school. I would stay at home.

Anyway, I was actually up at half five, but Jools was already dressed and ready to leave for work, and there she was: gone.

I make coffee and listen to an old podcast while I prepare myself for work. I would get over half a day's work before I had to leave thanks to the legendary Canterbury traffic. Not even the weather could bring itself to be sunny.

The morning passed with meetings and phone calls. Turns out I know shit. Useful shit too. The people who called the meeting are pleased. Which is nice.

I leave for Canterbury at half twelve, after having toast for lunch, arriving at the hospital by half one, and after having had my temperature checked I had to wait in the car until it was time for the appointment. At which point I was allowed to wait inside.

And wait.

And wait.

I was called in at quarter to three, and I was confronted by the pause as I entered and sat down and my thoughts were, what about if there's nothing wrong and its all in my head?

The pause was broken.

Well just have to shoot you he said, dryly.

Ha ha ha.

He went through the result of the scans, mainly the MRI, as he went through my should, slice my slice, in two planes. It turns out that the cartlidge around the joint should form a seal, and mine didn't. Also the tendon in the biscep wasn't really connected to the bone.

What to do?

It was up to me.

He will e mail the result to the physio, and see what he said. I could have injections, that might work. Or try to live with it.

And that was it. It was quarter past three, and instead of coming home, I drove wout through Ashford to the edge of the Marsh to do some butterfly chasing. I had to go past the inland border facility, which was rammed, and is like a small town. And the once remote Sevington church is now surrounded by the facility, charm and peace ruined forever.

I parked beside an old bridge, and after grabbing my camera for a walk down to the elm tree half a mile away. Here, legend has it, is a colony of White Letter Hairstreaks, a fairly rare butterfly This was my forth visit here to try to snap them, I had failed on the three previous trips.

It was a windy day, and just one patch of brambles was in the lea of it, and was a sun trap on the rare occasions when the sun did come out, and when it did so did many butterflies and damselflies.

I was there for just over an hour, and despite getting some nice shots of other flying things, no WLH, until I saw an odd shaped leaf. I raised my camera and the leaf flew off, never to be seen again. But I have actually seen one.

With that, I walk back to the car, load the car, and because I felt thirsty, stopped off at Hythe services for a bottle of strawberry milk shake and a pack of red hot Doritos. I eat those driving home.

Arriving home fie minutes after Jools, we split tasks, me making drinks while Jools slices the tomato and cheese for insalata.

We eat together, then after changing, Jools is gone, taking Jen's car to pick her and Sylv up, then go to the big top.

I cleaned up, put the bird and badger food out, listened to the radio and faffed about.

Nine came and went, as did ten.

And thoughts came of the story Mum told me of the night Dad died, she had his dinner ready for five, put it in the oven to keep warm. One hour passed, two hours passed. The third hour brought the knock of a policeman bearing the dreadful news.

But just before eleven, Jools appeared, and all was well again.

But way past our bed time.