It was a quiet morning with much to do so that I could leave the house by 1:30pm. I was heading to St George's Hospital for an ultrasound scan on my shoulder. I've been looking forward to this today for some time, as I hope it will give some clarity as to the issues with my shoulder and a plan for rehabilitation.

St George's Hospital is a sprawling mass of buildings. The entrance I used was on the right side of the plot, but it was still quite a walk. Even walking the permimter road was quite a depressing experience as patients were being wheeled out of buildings on trolleys and moved into ambulances. There's no privacy. I wish there was a way of treating people better.

When I arrived at St James' Wing, I followed the sign for Ultrasound until they ran out. Suddenly, there were none. I retraced my steps and realised that I had not missed a turning. They'd simply morphed into signs for X-rays. I checked in and was sent to sit in a corridor on a line of seats.

It transpired that this was the ultrasound queue and that I was the only person in it. A second patient arrived shortly after me but was ushered into a different room.

After about ten minutes, slightly earlier than the appointment, another patient left the room, and I was beckoned in. The next twenty minutes were spent trying to manoeuvre my arm into various positions while an ultrasound was taken. I have absolute adminration for the lady who performed the scan as all I saw on the screen was a blurry black and white image, but she was interpreting it and explaining bits to me. At one point, she did ask for assistance with a 'How do I get a view of' followed by the name of some body part that sounds alien to me.

Eventually, all was done. The lack of an obvious problem is either good or bad, depending on my current mood. I have vasilated all day. PY maintains this is good news. Nonetheless, I must wait for the formal report sometime next week.