Jaqui's Daily Blog

Saying Goodbye to the Robot Sling

Yesterday I said goodbye to the Robot Sling.


The surgeon who operated on my Problem Shoulder (she said it wasn’t easy, but I had warned her she was trying to put right fifty years of Shoulder Related Issues) thought we should conduct a short Throwing the Sling in the Bin ceremony - which we proceeded to do, right there in her consulting room. She pointed out that there appeared to be traces of several meals visible on the sling; I felt somewhat ashamed at my obvious slovenliness until I reminded myself that eating meals one-handed with one’s dominant arm in a sling is not the easiest of activities.


There aren’t many positives to wearing a sling for six weeks - I can think of only two. Firstly the Robot Sling has been a very visible reminder to Mr B that I am (i) not allowed and (ii) not able to respond to many of his requests. Fortunately I have been allowed to carry a mug of coffee in my right hand which has been a source of succour to us both in these challenging days.


Even more importantly, bus travel is quite a revelation when wearing a Robot Sling. I have only attempted it twice, to be fair - once to the local shops and once to the pantomime (oh, yes, I did!) - but it was quite an experience. To start with, on each occasion the bus driver waited until I was safely seated before starting up his engine again. This does sometimes happen when we passengers are fortunate enough to have a driver who is particularly friendly and - most importantly - on time, rather than running late. Even better, on standing up to alight from the bus, fellow passengers all seemed to have my welfare at heart: “You need to move so that this lady can get off!” they all loudly castigated the poor young mums trying to make room for me to wriggle past their baby-laden buggies.


Yesterday I was waiting at the bus stop for the Pulse bus to the hospital when my friend Ian drew up in his car and asked where I was going. In no time at all I was ensconced in the front passenger seat and on my way. This is another positive about wearing a Robot Sling - it’s like a silent plea for assistance. He didn’t need to wait for me, I reassured my kind friend, as I might (like Captan Oates) be some time - but he said what else did he have to do? This was a question I was unable to answer but it was, I admit, good to have some company while waiting, first for X-rays, then for the consultant. There was a TV in the waiting room but it was playing kids’ cartoons with the sound off. Have you noticed just how many animated films there have been on TV this Christmas? I never thought I would be quite so pleased to see a return of Homes Under the Hammer and Escape to the Country.


As regular readers know, I am an inveterate People Pleaser. I often wish I had been born a rebel (Cockney or otherwise) because then I wouldn’t have cared so much if I let people down. Yesterday was a case in point - I was so very sure that Ms Tigger (as I call my consultant because she is so very, well, bouncy) would be pleased with my progress over the past six weeks. Haven’t my offspring all been assuring me that I have been making amazing strides in my recovery? Haven’t I believed them implicitly, not least because I, too, was pleased with myself? Unfortunately She Who Knows Better was not at all pleased with me - she would be contacting my physiotherapist, she assured me, to order him to push me much harder. I did try to jump to his defence - he had assured me that it was “very early days” I explained - but Ms Tigger was having none of it. I am, officially, on the Naughty Step.


Today I have put this disappointing verdict into perspective. I have a new exercise to perform which will, I am sure, put me back on track. 


What’s more, in all the photos from Christmas 2018, I am sporting the Robot Sling, in all its meal-spattered messiness. Now, as we enter 2019, I am rid of it.


As Someone Far Greater than I once memorably pronounced, I am Free At Last...


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Latest comments

28.12 | 07:41

This wonderful blog has summed up the true meaning of A Christmas Day. Once the dread of a restricted day had sunk in, other ways were invented. Thank you

22.12 | 09:20

So sorry to hear that Brian is in hospital. It would be bad at any time but at present....... It must be true agony for you. You'll both be in my thoughts. xx

22.08 | 02:02


I'll be able to help you with information on the usher's as Thomas Henry Usher is my aunt's ancestor as well can you please email me so we can talk

22.08 | 02:00

Hi Karen,

I thought I would try again to see if I can get a response from you again please email me so we can talk further. My email is: lol-emma@live.com.au

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