"It could have been worse."

Over the last 3 months, I have heard the phrase, "It could have been worse." nearly every single day.   I was riding a mountain bike into town to play music with some friends on June 9th when I was hit by a car.  I suffered a concussion, fractured distal clavicle, and various other hematomas, contusions, and such polysyllabic medical thingies as that.  I don't remember much about the accident.  I lost several minutes there.  I actually regained consciousness while riding my bike back toward my house.  I spent the next month or so in a sling, with limited mobility throughout my right side.  The fracture to my clavicle was problematic, being very near the distal end, and difficult to heal.  I have been wearing an electronic gizmo called a 'Bone Stimulator' every day for nearly the whole process of recovery.  On Monday, Aug 29th, I had more X-rays taken at the orthopedic surgeon's office, only to discover that the bone is not healing as doctors would have hoped.  Surgery might be the only option at this point.  The surgeon wants to screw a plate to my clavicle, across the break, to help hold the bone together.  I have been ordered to do practically nothing for the next six weeks.  Doing nothing has never been my strong suit, to put it mildly.

Fractured Distal Clavicle

I had managed to keep a pretty good attitude about all of this until this last visit to the surgeon.  I have had broken bones before, and know the routine.  I even managed to get a few rides in on my bike.  Riding has always been grounding for me.  It's helped me sort things out, keep my mind healthy, and as it turns out, is actually good for my body as well.  Day before yesterday, I put my road and mountain bikes away for the season.  I am forbidden to ride until the clavicle is completely healed.  So you can imagine that I am a bit depressed.

This hematoma eventually spread from my belt-line

to my right calf.  It is still visible, three months later.

That brings us to the title of this particular episode.  "It could have been worse."  I realize that people are only trying to be supportive and encouraging when they say it.  I also realize that it's not helping one whit to hear it.  I watch the news.  I am aware of the suffering happening in the world.  I have visual confirmation all around me that, yes, it could have been much worse.  Furthermore, it has most certainly occurred to me that, had I not been wearing a helmet, I would most likely not be writing this blog right now.  In the last three months, I have given thanks many times that I am still able to walk, eat, and breathe on my own.  I have come to realize in recent weeks that I would much rather hear someone say, "Wow...That sucks!" than to pontificate about how good my life is.  I'd rather hear someone acknowledge that I'm having a rough spot than to be cheery and bright.  I also enjoy hearing someone else's story of a similar nature, especially when visual aids (scars) are employed.  Don't get me wrong... I am well aware that this will not last forever, but right now I'm up to my chin, and I just want people to acknowledge it.  Is that too much to ask?