The concept of old-age was one that conjured up seeing people who couldn’t get about easily. They were seen in motorised wheel-chairs travelling along a pavement, crossing at the traffic lights and shopping in stores with a basket on their knees. Not something to be idealised about, but would be a necessity if one were disabled.
Up until this winter, I didn’t have anything to grumble about. I did wonder when old-age was going to catch up with me. Unknown to me fate had been working its way towards a problem. I had noticed that my right arm was giving me pain, when I closed my bedroom curtains at night and when I opened them in the morning. I knew I couldn’t stand on my dressing-table, which made it easier, but it could have resulted in a fall, which could have given me bigger problems. I rectified this by calling in at a shop, which made vertical blinds and by Christmas, all I had to do was pull the cord to open and close the blinds.
You would have thought, I should have learned my lesson and realised I had a weakness in my upper limb, but no I hadn’t. One Saturday morning, I took a brainstorm and cleaned all my kitchen cupboard doors. I knew I had stretched up high and had laboured to make a decent job, but I couldn’t honestly say I noticed any pain.
It was Sunday night before I realised what I had done. I woke up with an excruciating pain in my shoulder and arm. I couldn’t move it without feeling pain. The worst was yet to come. In the morning, after showering, the effort and difficulty of putting on my clothes made me break out in a sweat and I felt dizzy. I phoned my son, just to let him know, in case anything worse should happen to me.
When I saw his car arriving, I was grateful that I had family in Girvan, Ayrshire.