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Life since the accident

Illustration for article titled Life since the accident

It’s been roughly over 3 months since I broke my leg, and I’m in a rare mood where I feel like talking about so here goes your update!

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If you’re just tuning in to my glorious saga, I broke my leg February 20 when I was hit by a car riding my Vespa. It was a hit and run and the perpetrator was never found. I had emergency surgery that night and a hard core metal rod and an obnoxious amount of pins were inserted into me like a bunch of sharp metal tampons. For reference, it was my tibia/fibula which are the shin bones that fractured, it was a pretty clean break with what I’m told a crack leading up to my knee (hence the pins). I don’t think I ever gave the details of the extent of everything on here mostly because initial shock/pain medication/not wanting to relive the trauma made me tight lipped about the whole situation.

I never had a cast, which I guess wasn’t necessary because of the fricken metal rod inserted into my bone. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m now like 10% metal (100% rock & roll) but rest assured that I probably won’t break it again because of this. Because I was curious I googled around (so idk if this is the most accurate information but whatever) and since I is an adult my bones is full grown, casts are used mostly on youngins whose bones would outgrow something like a metal fuckin rod inserted up in there, and although they can be removed, it’s not often done because, well, why?? Nope, I’m cool with Rod Blagojevich as I call it, quietly being a prick in my shin.

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I managed to recover quickly, I’ve been walking around without crutches for weeks and without a walking stick for a while now too. I am by no means recovered completely, but I can at least pass for normal, whatever that means.

I am in constant pain. It’s manageable pain, but pain none the less. I didn’t like the narcotics I was prescribed and could not be happier to stop taking them when I could. I mostly can’t wear jeans, because all my good jeans are skinny jeans and uncomfortable and restricting. I can’t often wear shorts to work so it’s been difficult to figure out which combination of leggings and shirts are work appropriate. I can’t wear too many of my shoes because either they make walking painful or they might be too small or restricting. I hate sandals so I don’t have many. I have one pair of flats and they have a pointed toe that is uncomfortable. I have a lot of ankle swelling. I should wear dresses more but it’s been a weird cold spring in California, and also there is a nasty scar on my thigh from the surgery that I don’t need to look at.

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To be honest my mental state has been in shambles lately. I’ve become withdrawn. I might not answer the phone. I spend a ton of time alone. Everything makes me irritable. I blast angry screamo music from my car. I want to punch things. I hate everything. But I’ve gotten good at putting up a front of appearing positive when I’m actually screaming internally all the time both from pain and frustration. Because no one wants to hear the reality of it, which is that I am physically and emotionally fucked up right now and I have no idea if I’ll get over it, or if I should.

I can’t change the fact that this happened. Karma will not solve the fact that this derailed my life. I don’t know who the shithead who hit me is, where they are, or why the fuck they did what they did. I never will. I don’t know why this happened to me and I don’t think I believe in magical things like everything happens for a reason. No. Sometimes shitty things happen. In the grand scheme of shitty things is is not the worst. This was my greatest fear every time I got on my bike and it happened and I survived and I can walk, but I can’t run but I’ll get there eventually.

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And lastly; don’t be insanium, protect your cranium. WEAR A HELMET

Illustration for article titled Life since the accident

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