Dull Ache Under Left Shoulder Blade Novels & Stories

When I finished he was quiet for a moment. "The sleeve," he said. "What about it?" "More suggestion than statement." He held my eyes. "That's exactly you." I looked at him. "That's what Iris said too," I said. "In different words." "She understood what she was making." "She understood who she was making it for." I paused. "She said I carry tension on the left side. That it affects how I stand." "You do," he said. "You've noticed." "When something is bothering you. The left shoulder rises slightly." He said it simply. "I noticed it in November for the first time."

the doctor asked softly. Daniel gritted his teeth, sweat rolling down his forehead, his jaw muscles bulging with effort. His fingers twitched slightly, but they remained locked in a half-bent, claw-like posture. He couldn't close his hand. He couldn't open his palm. The doctor let out a long sigh, setting his instruments down on a stainless steel tray. "The nerve sheath in the lower brachial plexus is severely inflamed. The high-stress adrenaline spike you experienced, combined with repetitive micro-trauma from blitz chess, has triggered an acute neuro-ischemic spasm."

Hunter watched them with a pale face. While she was hugging him in relief, a pang of pain burst along the length of Hunter's spine. He reached a hand behind his back to touch the aching spot under his right shoulder's glenohumeral joint. Since he was soaked to the bone, he couldn't feel much. But when he brought his fingers in front of his eyes, his eyebrows flew up at what he saw. Tbc...

Every exhale is too shallow to matter. I press my palm to my sternum because the motion feels like something. It does not help. The pressure only grows. A sharp, stabbing ache shoots into my left shoulder and down my arm. My body jerks with the force of it. Darko. I can’t feel him at all, like he's completely gone. The bond that has been steady since I was a kid is fraying. Panic wedges through the pain. He is not just weak. He is not there.

The specific kind of slowness meant she wanted me to see exactly what was coming with enough time to feel it fully before it happened. My arms had gone past the dull ache and into that sharp, burning numbness that lived in the joint when it had been forced back at the wrong angle for too long. Every time I pulled against Eric and Josh's grip even slightly, the pain just climbed higher into my shoulder and settled there which made me understand that there was nothing I could do.

But there's a trail on her left cheek that catches the light from the fire service vehicles, and every few minutes she presses the back of her wrist against it quickly, automatically, the way you'd wipe away sweat without breaking concentration, and then she goes straight back to what she's doing. I don't say anything about it. I barely breathe in case she notices and stops. "Tell me when this hurts," she says, and does something to the shoulder that makes my vision white out briefly. "That hurts," I say. "Good." She doesn't sound sorry. "You have a partial dislocation. Possibly a hairline fracture at the acromioclavicular joint, but I can't confirm without imaging." Her hands move again, ge

CIARA The pain in my shoulder woke me up. It was a sharp, deep ache that made it hard to even drag air into my lungs, and every time I tried to shift my weight, my limbs felt completely pinned down against the mattress. Right next to my head, a heart monitor was beeping too fast, the loud rhythm making my skull throb.

DAMIEN. I lay flat on the cold wooden floorboards. My right shoulder hung two inches lower than my left. The joint was completely out of its socket. The muscle throbbed with a steady, intense ache. I needed to fix it immediately. I grabbed the thick fabric of my shirt sleeve between my teeth. I clamped my jaws down hard. I pushed my back flat against the solid oak bed frame to gain leverage. I gripped my injured right wrist with my left hand. I pulled my arm forward and twisted the limb sharply to the left.

Well, sort of. "Your left shoulder is stiff," I say. "I can feel the limitations in how you move. I can't believe your fancy Dr. Tom hasn't caught this; you should've been doing physio this entire time, and something tells me you haven't." I move around him to give him a stern glare, using my best disappointed doctor voice.

The cool water soothes the dryness, and I take a few greedy sips, feeling it trickle down my throat, grounding me. “Thank you,” I murmur, my voice hoarse, and Camden swallows, his gaze never leaving mine. “Are you all right?” he asks, and I blink, struggling to focus, to assess the strange numbness in my arm. I try to flex the fingers of my left hand, but there’s a sharp, throbbing pain, like something’s caught. My heart sinks as I realize something’s wrong. “My shoulder—” I whisper, fear creeping back in.