My shoulder had begun to ache over the summer, and by early autumn I could hardly move it. It became impossible to reach for a dish on a high shelf, or even strap on my seat belt. If the body can be seen as a metaphor, then it seemed I was shouldering something, carrying a giant boulder on my back all through the night in my sleep, then awakening to a half-frozen self. Nothing helped. Not physical therapy, not yoga, not even a cortisone shot.
