"Well, the good news is you’re not in pain."

I had my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon on Friday, and that is what he had to say after looking at my X-rays. It turns out that after 7 weeks there is no sign my clavicle has healed at all.

I’ve been instructed to stop wearing the sling (yay!) and to start doing some stretching exercises (ouch!) but I’m not allowed to use any weights. I’ve got another appointment in 5 weeks to assess my progress.

Basically, the bone may never mend, the fragments may just be too far apart for that to happen. I just have to wait and see if it causes me pain or not. If it does, the only option is to operate and remove the fractured end of the bone.

Quit frankly, I’m bummed. This was not what I was expecting at all. The prospect of having to treat my arm with kid gloves for another 5 weeks, followed by the possibility of having to undergo surgery and another 6 weeks in a sling is not attractive in the least.

Sigh. Well, at least I can type with two hands for a while.

Lucky Number 7

8 AM, a Wednesday, exactly 7 weeks ago, I found myself flying through the air, my bicycle mysteriously absent from beneath me. The resulting impact with the ground, and the unbending nature of bone, left me without the full use of my right arm. The arm is still in it’s sling – that will hopefully end with the visit to the fracture clinic on Friday – but I’ve broken the rules, and I’m typing with both hands today.