Old age or all in my head?

What had happened was...about a year and half ago, due to a chatty, non-atttentive spotter my shoulder rotated about 20 degrees in the wrong direction. This of course resulted in a quick succession of loud, popping noises, not completely unlike a concert pianist cracking their knuckles prior to performing (granted in my head it sounded more like a 21 gun salute).

Ever since that lovely morning I have been rewarded with frequent pains that hang around for days when activities particularly stress my shoulder, and what appears to be an ever diminishing range of motion. As someone once told me as they noticed me stretching, "You've gotta take care of that rotator CUP! She can be a real bear once you start having problems with 'er." Truer words have never been spoken! Now I have resorted to "work-arounds", and trying to avoid specific things that I know will result in those familiar pains that hang around for days, whenever possible of course.

There are vivid memories I have of playing sports with my "elders" (dad, uncles, etc.), and laughing at how as they got older there was a direct correlation to the percentage of the game that they actually participated in. For example; we created a new position in basketball just for my Uncle Bud, aptly named "Cherry Picker". What that entailed was as the rest of the team is hustling up and down court, playing both a defensive and offensive game (as is necessary), the "Cherry Picker" would stay down at the offensive end of the court, under the basket. So as his team regained possession of the ball, would wave his arms wildly, screaming about how "Open!" he was. Indeed he was, but somehow he didn't manage to get the ball too often. Only what was necessary to keep him feeling good about himself.

There's one thing that I've dreaded more than anything else for some time...getting old-er! All of the things I laughed about with people of the previous generation I can now see looming.

The question now becomes; is it just me or is it all downhill from here? Or in reality am I just the proud owner of a injured rotator "cup", that because of my total disdain for trips to the doctor and/or surgery have not even taken the time get checked out? Or am I a "Cherry Picker" in the making?