Pain In Right Shoulder Blade When Taking Deep Breath Novels & Stories

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.

I shouldn’t be envious of him getting fulfillment elsewhere since I was. Tyler I never realized how difficult the simple act of breathing could actually be, but I am conscious of every torturous breath I take. Wearing a shirt is not an option, and if the wind blows, I am in sheer agony. I guess I shouldn’t complain, at least my ribs aren’t aching like a rotted tooth anymore. Though if I do manage to get a good breath in, they are still quite painful but not constant.

“God—” My hand flew to my temple, fingers pressing hard like I could hold my head together, like it wasn’t about to split open. The movement tugged at something else, and a sharp, tearing ache ripped through my shoulder. “Holy shit!“ I cussed under my breath, gripping my shoulder. The ache slowly spread from my shoulder down my arm in a hot, throbbing wave, stealing the strength from my fingers. My arm sagged uselessly at my side, heavy and wrong.

Morning drive. Steering wheel. The dashboard screen flashes. The accelerator that I couldn't release. Then— The crash. My body tensed reflexively. And that's when the pain hit. My right shoulder felt like it was being forcibly pulled out of its socket again. Sharp pain radiated up to my neck. My breath caught. I tried to move my right hand. Big mistake. The pain made me hiss softly without realizing it. That small movement was enough to stir something beside me. The sound of a chair sliding quickly.

My shoulders tense, my focus narrowing as I search for something, anything, that explains it. There is nothing. And that is what makes it worse. Because my wolf does not react like this without reason. Something is off. Something I cannot see. Then pain slices through my side. Sharp. Sudden. It knocks the breath out of me for a second, my body reacting instantly as my hand flies to the spot. There is nothing there. No wound. No blood. Just skin. But the pain lingers, deep and real, like something just tore through me. A phantom pain.

I smiled back as a sudden pain shot through my chest, a reminder of the limitations my illness imposed on me. I clutched Jason's hands tight as my breathing became shallow, and the pain intensified. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on breathing, trying to ease the discomfort. "Are you in pain, Kiera ?" Jason's voice sounded concerned as he gently rubbed my back. "I'm okay, I just need a moment," I managed to whisper before taking a deep breath and opening my eyes to see his worried expression.

Kieran The silence in the study is usually my ally. Today, it’s merely a container for the throbbing ache in my side. I sit at my desk, my posture rigid. Every breath is a calculated negotiation with my broken rib. Shallow inhale. Hold. Slow exhale. If I breathe too deeply, the bone grinds against the bruised muscle, sending a spike of white-hot agony through my torso that makes my vision blur. I welcome it.

She hit the button on my bed to raise the head of it. I did an internal inspection as my body moved. My left hip was painful, but nothing I couldn't handle. The extra pressure of sitting was irritating my chest, but I figured that's what Gail was there to help me with. I also finally felt that incision where they had to drain everything out of my chest. "Exhale, dear. Holding our breath is a natural response to pain, but since your injury was in your lungs, you're going to have to be extra careful with the breathing part of all of that."

Grinding pain. I hissed through my teeth, jaw clenched tight. No time to baby it. I leaned back against the rock, locked my spine, gripped the wrist with my left hand. Steadied my breath. Counted to three. Then jerked it forward and up. A sickening pop tore through my shoulder. Vision sparked white for a second. I bit down on a guttural noise and forced myself to breathe through the pain. It held. Joint back in place. The climb was slow, but I made it up.

The motion costing him – I could see it in the way his jaw clenched when his arms went above his shoulders, the muscles in his torso contracting around whatever Caleb's check had done to his ribs. The bruise on his shoulder was worse than I'd thought. Not just the thunderstorm purple – there was a deeper layer underneath, the kind that meant the tissue was damaged beyond surface level. His ribs on the left side were tender and discoloured. I pressed my fingers gently along each one. He breathed in sharp through his nose on the fourth. "That one might be cracked." "It's not." "You don't know that." "I know what cracked feels like. This isn't it." Flat. Certain. The voice of a man who'd catalo