Surgery and The Aftermath

To make sure I wasn't overwhelming you all with a massive post, I split my surgery story into two manageable posts.  Here is a continuation of my earlier post, Surgery: The Buildup.

Thursday
The big day had arrived.  I woke up, got ready for school, and had some tea for breakfast (remember, I wasn't allowed to eat anything).  The worst part about the day was I would constantly get hungry; my stomach seemed to never stop rumbling.  Drinking tea and water helped a bit, but after ten I just had to try my best to avoid thinking about food.  Overall, I was really happy I went to school because I completed two crucial tests and turned in some homework that was important to hand in.  It felt good to release a bunch of stress and being busy kept me preoccupied from thinking about the surgery.  Every once in a while, I would start freaking out about the IV and the plate, the stitches and the anesthesia.

On the outside, I looked like this...

GIF courtesy of Mashable

But really I felt like this.

GIF courtesy of Mashable

Surgery: The Buildup

In case you didn't read my previous post, I broke my collarbone two weeks ago.  Last week's post was an account of how it happened (the details and such).  This post is about the buildup to my clavicle surgery and how crazy the past few days have been for me.

Monday
Over the weekend it was decided that I would meet with an orthopedic doctor to discuss the pros and cons of natural healing and the pros and cons of surgery.  We set an appointment for mid-morning on Monday.  I left in the middle of second period and got back just before fourth period.  During the visit we learned many things, the most unnerving was that the decision was all mine.  It wasn't black or white whether I should get surgery or let it heal on its own.  That left me in an unending loop of silently arguing with myself, weighing the downsides to each course of action.

On the one hand letting my collarbone heal on its own would mean no cutting into my body, no risk of infection, and no scar.  However, my shoulder would be shorter because the bones were overlapping and displaced 1.8 centimeters.  I would have a large, circular bump where they would heal together.  Lastly, there was a five to ten percent chance that my collarbone wouldn't heal at all due to both the overlapping and displacement factors.  Basically, the bones were not in good alignment.

On the other hand, surgery would almost guarantee the bones would heal as there was a less than one percent chance of not healing.  It would set the bones creating proper alignment so my shoulder would be straight, without a big lump.  However, I would have a scar the length of my clavicle and permanent numbness (about quarter-sized) below the incision because the doctor would need to cut through the clavicle nerve.  A titanium plate would be put on top of the break, and six screws would be used to keep it in place (three on each side).  Although it would be out-patient surgery (meaning 1 hour surgery, 4 hours total time, and then I would go home), I would still miss at least a day of school, something I knew would be difficult to make up.

Which would you choose?  A scar or a bump?

Tengo una Clavícula Rota

I have a broken clavicle (aka collarbone).

Of course, the big question is: How did it happen?

Well, I broke it during a soccer game, my second one that day, in fact.  Here is a lengthly, detailed description from my point of view.  At least, this is what I think went down.  I'm not sure I remember it quite right.  You'd have to ask a witness.

Here I was, dribbling the ball.  I was going down the right side of the field, between the center circle and the sideline.  There was a girl from the other team coming at me.  Just before she got to me, I kicked the ball away and put in a little burst of speed, attempting to run around her.  However, she came in and collided with my right knee and thigh which caused me to tumble forward.  At this point, I may or may not have been suspended in air.  I think I was.  My momentum carried me forward and gravity pulled me toward the ground.  Now, I have been in this situation before with almost the same exact tackle.  That time, I simply rolled out of it.  I was tripped, went off the ground, tucked in my head and shoulder, hit the ground, rolled a bit, then popped up like nothing happened.  Literally, I didn't feel a thing, not even a bruise.  Keep in mind all of this happened in seconds so it was more of natural instincts kicking in that left me pleasantly surprised afterward when nothing hurt.

This time was different.

Finally!

This week I had soccer everyday except today (Friday).  Monday was practice, Tuesday was a game, Wednesday was a game and Thursday was practice.

And guess what happened on Wednesday?

We won.

Whoops, I meant to say:

WE WON!  THAT’S RIGHT, WE.  FREAKING. WON!

This was us.
GIF courtesy of Mashable