One witty remark that I have always loved is about an excuse not to do something: “I can’t. I have a bone in my leg.”

I still find that wisecrack hysterical.

My jocularity is tempered somewhat by the fact that I really do have a bone that keeps me from doing everything I want to do–at least, not without pain. I have a new bone spur in my left shoulder. I also have one in my right shoulder, but it did its acting up a few years ago, and now seems relatively well-behaved.

The problem with bone spurs is that they are mutants. They are growths of bone, usually near a joint, that cannot really be “cured.” Most people wind up getting a surgery to shave them down. But they usually grow back, so I am loathe to go that route. My specific bone spurs seem to like to impinge on ligaments and nerves. The right shoulder bone spur impinged on and off for two years and even stayed painful and debilitating for 8 solid months during that time. Then it somehow let go, and seems okay now.

But just when I thought it was safe to lift my arm–Bam! I get one in my left shoulder, too. Same location, on the joint. Now, reaching to the nightstand, reaching for a plate in the cabinet, throwing my new kitten off me, and onto the bed–that’s like having an ice pick plunged into me for about 30 solid seconds. Any movement, really, that requires me to lift my arm, especially to extend it in a lifted position, is cause for muffled screaming.

I know I’m not angelic enough to be growing wings…as much fun as that would be. So, I guess it’s a good thing that I’m not a pro tennis player. Or a traffic cop. Or a left-handed hitch hiker. See? I am perfectly capable of looking on the bright side.