So, after really rather a rotten end to what had been a lovely morning of trail running I’m now reduced to moping around the house feeling terribly sore, quite broken, and somewhat sheepish as I await surgery to stabilise and repair the bone with a nice bit of shiny plate and some screws. When I went to the orthopedic specialist last week he took a look at my stunning beauty shot, congratulated me on my fall, and mused that he believes that when I broke my collarbone eleven years ago it failed to knit back together and had simply been supported by scar tissue for the past decade. When I tumbled and hit the ground, the mass gave way, the bones shifted and..crack! Hello broken clavicle take two! As it didn’t mend the first time it broke, the chances of the bone fixing itself this time are pretty much slim to none, hence the need for a surgeon’s help.
The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning, and the wait has been excruciating. I’ve had a whole week to sit around and get worked up about it. A whole week of impatiently treading water knowing that once the surgery occurs then I may as well be at day one of recovery all over again. A whole week of worrying about side effects, the resulting scar, being able to feel the hardware, and then of course the operation itself. A whole week of curiously researching my predicament and then slamming the browser shut before I read, or see too much.
Sam and I look quite the pair at the moment. I have a very large, attractive greenish yellow bruise radiating across my chest, along with a battered and scabbed cheekbone where I came to a grinding halt on my face, while he had a run in with Bea’s head during a sibling disagreement and is sporting a very impressive black eye. He says he likes it because it makes him look tough. I’m not feeling so bad ass.
On the whole though I think I am already doing better than I did in 2002. Maybe I was less determined, or maybe I was just a wet noodle back then, and now all the Crossfit I’d been doing is to thank for being able to move around, and hop in and out of bed without too much trouble? Being able to sit upright from lying, using my core and not having to throw myself forward by the shoulders is such a simple thing but leaves me feeling quite accomplished and smug right now. With my guarded arm securely in my sling and taking care to keep my torso steady, I have even hopped onto my trusty spin bike and have toiled away in the basement putting some careful miles in.