‘Welcome to middle age.” This is what my GP said to me 10 years ago when I asked her why I needed this pill or that. Being then just shy of 50, that hit home. Now being just shy of 60, I mutter those words to myself at least once a day. There’s a long list of aches, pains and assorted maladies about which to mutter. High up on that list are my shoulders. Bloody agony, both of them. Picking something off a high shelf or fishing for something on the back seat of the car have had to become planned events to be undertaken only if absolutely necessary.
I interviewed Prof Alice Roberts this week. A writer, broadcaster, academic, anatomist, archaeologist and sometime medical doctor, she knows her bones, and no mistake. I noted with interest that her PhD thesis was titled “Rotator cuff disease in humans and apes: a palaeopathological and evolutionary perspective on shoulder pathology”. I’ve rarely felt so connected with my ancestors, so human, and indeed so ape-like. In an instant my shoulder pain became easier to bear, as I felt at one with a caveman wincing as he reached up to apply the finishing touches to some wall art.
