I fractured my shoulder while racing in a triathlon. It blows my mind to think a whole year has gone by since then. It seems like just yesterday I was lying in a hospital bed alternating between excruciating pain and a morphine-induced haze.
I remember the orthopedic surgeon telling me it would take at least a year to fully recover from the injury. Turns out he was right.
My left shoulder still isn’t 100 per cent. I can swim without pain but volleyball practice leaves my shoulder throbbing. I still have occasional numbness and tingling in my left hand (due to nerve damage). And I have trouble reaching for things on shelves above my head.
But the thing that bothers me the most is how quickly the past year has flown by. One minute you’re being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, the next minute you’re taxiing down a runway in Japan. Time isn’t slipping away; it’s barreling downhill and picking up speed as it goes. Just whoosh and it’s gone.
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