Sarah Mitchell Facebook ad: “2 Years Of Shoulder Pain gone in 5 Weeks”

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Please don't buy this cream. My frozen shoulder stopped my arm 69cm short of my good one, and I couldn't fasten my own bra. Here's what happened when I used NuraCalm for 8 weeks, with a biro and a tape measure. I'm Sarah Mitchell. For 24 years I've done clothing alterations behind a little shop in Dewsbury. Thousands of shoulders. I pin jackets on women who can't get their arm in the sleeve. I move buttons for ladies who can't reach behind their own back anymore. I teach them the tricks: front fastening bras, coats a size up, slip on shoes so there's no bending and reaching. How to dress AROUND a shoulder, and how to accept that this is just how it is now. Ten months ago it was my arm that wouldn't go in the sleeve. My right shoulder. It started as an ache when I reached for the pin box on the top shelf. Within 2 months I couldn't lift my hand past the light switch, couldn't do up my own zip, and couldn't lie on that side in bed. Every turn in the night woke me. The GP moved my arm about, winced with me, and said the words I've heard my customers repeat for 24 years: "Frozen shoulder. Very common at your age, especially in women. There's not much we do, I'm afraid. It usually thaws on its own. Take some paracetamol. It can take 18 months to 2 years." Two years. I fit sleeves for a living. With my arms. And before you ask: yes, I tried the shelf at the chemist first, like everyone does. £11 on Voltarol a fortnight of "taking the edge off," then nothing. Deep Heat, which warmed the skin and never touched what was underneath. A £43 heat wrap. Paracetamol round the clock. The cortisone jab, which was the cruellest one: 6 good weeks, then the countdown, then back where I started and they'll only give you 2 a year. £176 gone in under four months, and my arm still stopped at the light switch. Every one of those things was aimed at the pain. Not one of them was aimed at what was holding the arm. So I went home and did what I do with a jacket that doesn't hang right: I measured it. I stood side on to the kitchen door frame and walked my fingers up as far as they'd go. Left hand first, the good one: 197cm, marked in biro. Then the right: it stopped dead at 128cm. Eight centimetres above the light switch. I stood there looking at two biro marks on my own door frame with 69cm of bare wood between them, and that gap was the whole of it. That gap was the zip I couldn't reach, the seatbelt, the top shelf, the side of the bed I couldn't lie on. Then I measured the other way too, because a seamstress measures everything: how far my thumb walked up my own spine. Left thumb: my bra strap. Right thumb: the top of my hip pocket, 22cm lower, and not a millimetre past it. Because for 24 years I've watched what "it'll thaw on its own" actually looks like. The same women, year after year, in my fitting room. First the buttons move to the front. Then the coat goes a size up. Then the daughter starts coming in to help them dress. I know the trajectory. I measure the trajectory for a living. I wasn't ready to walk it. A customer of mine, a retired physio, sat in my shop while I pinned her hem and watched me push a sleeve up with my chin. She said: "You know it's not just the capsule, don't you?" And then she told me the thing no 10 minute appointment ever had: with a frozen shoulder, TWO things are stuck, not one. The capsule, the bit they talk about, the bit that takes 2 years to thaw. And the muscles wrapped around the joint, which have been clenched tight for months, guarding it like a fist round a sore thumb. The waiting game is for the capsule. Nobody treats the fist. That's why the gel, the heat and even the jab had let me down: they were all shouting at the pain while the fist kept its grip. And the fist runs on magnesium. After 50, your body holds a lot less of it. A muscle needs magnesium to get the signal to let go. Think of a phone: no charge, no call. No magnesium, no "let go" message. So the muscle just grips, day and night and a good part of that 69cm, the night pain, the locked zip, the seatbelt you can't reach, is the fist, not the freeze. The fist you can do something about. This week, not in 2 years. I'd dismissed magnesium years ago, because everything I'd seen was either a £7 spray that sits on top of the skin or a tablet your gut burns off before it's anywhere near your shoulder. She said that was the right instinct: those don't work. It has to be magnesium chloride, the kind that soaks through, worked into the muscle. She mentioned NuraCalm: magnesium chloride with MSM that breaks it into tiny bits so it slips through the skin and reaches the muscle, B6 to keep the "let go" signal firing, arnica for the soreness, and a little menthol so the shoulder feels easier in minutes while the real work takes weeks. I figured I had nothing to lose. The two biro marks would still be on the door frame if it didn't work. So I did what I do to every jacket: I measured it, morning and night. Fingers up the frame, thumb up my back, in biro, every single day. Left arm stayed at 197cm the whole way through. That was my ruler. All I was ever watching was the gap. Day 1: rubbed it round the whole shoulder after my bath, front and back. Cool, a bit of ease, slept a little longer before the first wake. That's all, and I'd have been suspicious of anything more. Right hand: 128cm. Gap: 69cm. Day 5: put my cardigan on without planning it like a military operation. 133cm. Gap: 64cm. Could be nothing. I measure hems to the millimetre; I know how measurement works. I kept quiet. Day 11: one full night on my LEFT side without the right one waking me. First since spring. 141cm. Gap: 56cm. Day 17: reached the pin box on the middle shelf with my right hand. Put it back with my right hand too, out of sheer spite. 152cm. Gap: 45cm. And my right thumb went past the hip pocket for the first time in months. Day 23: fastened my bra behind my back. Right thumb at the strap, where the left one had been sitting all along. I stood in the bedroom and cried, and then I laughed at myself for crying over a bra. My husband heard me, came up, and when I showed him, he didn't say anything. He just watched me do it again, and squeezed my hand. He's been zipping my dresses up for ten months. Day 31: 168cm. Gap: 29cm. Reached the seatbelt over my right shoulder in one movement, no leaning forward, no grabbing it with the left hand like I'd taught myself. Day 42: 186cm. Gap: 11cm. A hand's width between the arm that works and the arm they told me to wait 2 years for. I stood at that door frame and looked at six weeks of biro marks climbing up the wood like a child's height chart, and I thought about every woman I've quietly moved buttons for while she waited for her 2 years to be up. Day 56: 191cm. Gap: 6cm. Eight weeks in, and the marks are still climbing slower now, a centimetre at a time, the way a hem comes right with patience. I pinned a jacket above my head on the rail that morning, both arms up, and didn't notice I'd done it until the customer pointed it out. Is 6cm perfect? No. The last bit of the capsule is still doing its slow thaw, exactly like they said it would. That part I can't argue with. But 63 of those 69 centimetres were never the freeze. They were the fist. And the fist let go in 8 weeks, not 2 years. The pain that lived in that shoulder day and night has gone quiet, I'm sleeping on both sides, and I'm dressing myself like a grown woman. Nobody at the surgery ever mentioned the fist. There's no appointment for telling a seamstress in Dewsbury to rub magnesium into her shoulder every night. They manage the wait. They don't feed the muscle. One more thing, because I'd wasted £176 before this and I check everything twice: the promise is 90 days. Not "unopened tubs only" you can use it every night for the full 90 days, finish every last tub, and if your gap on the door frame hasn't moved, you email them and they refund every penny anyway, empty tubs and all. I checked before I ordered. They do it. So the worst that can happen is 90 days of measuring. So don't buy it. There'll be more left for me I'd like the tub to still be in stock when I reorder, and it comes and goes. But if your shoulder has you sleeping propped up on one side like you're on a long haul flight. If your arm won't take the seatbelt and it's become a two hand job. If your zips have moved to the front and your good coat is a size up. If someone in a 10 minute appointment just called your shoulder "frozen" and gave you "2 years" like it was a prescription: Go to a door frame tonight. Walk your good hand up it, mark it in biro. Then the bad one. Measure the gap between the two, because that gap is the thing nobody has ever put a number on for you. Then give this 8 weeks. There's the 90 day promise, so the door frame decides, not me: https://try.nuracalm.com/shoulder-dont-buy Edit: a few people have said they bought it on Amazon and felt nothing. That's because the copies on there have barely any magnesium in them. The real one is only on their own site: https://try.nuracalm.com/shoulder-dont-buy P.S. 24 years of moving buttons taught me one thing I wish I'd known at the start: a front fastening bra works around a shoulder, it doesn't free one. And so does the gel, the heat and the jab they work around the pain. Only the muscle can let the shoulder go, and the muscle just needs feeding: https://try.nuracalm.com/shoulder-dont-buy P.P.S. Do the door frame test tonight, both arms, and write the gap down. Mine was 69cm. If that number isn't moving on its own in a week, that's the fist, not the freeze. Give it 8 weeks and remember, you've got 90 days and the empty tubs still count: https://try.nuracalm.com/shoulder-dont-buy Sarah Mitchell, Dewsbury

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