The fact that my potential shoulder surgeon is located in an grand old church made me feel better about going to see him. If the Big Man Upstairs was on his side, well, that meant he was on my side too. By proxy. Right? My cousin who is a doctor in Canberra recommended George Murrell to me, and hey, if you’re getting big-ups from within your own profession, that says something. I wanted to avoid surgery if at all possible, and George examined me, got his colleague to do an MRI, and told me that in his expert opinion I probably didn’t need expensive surgery, but a cortisone injection into the shoulder should suffice. Thank God. I want to trust the people I pay to look after my health, and I trusted this crew. Now, if only I can avoid ever going back.