Broken Leg Stories

     If you find yourself longing to hear stories about wounds to the human body, here's what you do.  Get yourself a leg brace and crutches, put the brace on the outside of your pants and go sit at an outdoor cafe looking friendly and they will come to you.
     Regular readers know that I broke my knee last month.  Since then almost everyone I know has told me their broken bone stories.  I've heard about arms, elbows, wrists, two elbows at the same time, ankles, femurs, any number of foot bones, shoulders, toes, you name it.  And then there are the cuts and other incapacitating wounds.  Or, if they haven't had an injury themselves, they know someone or are related to someone who has.  Everybody relates and wants to tell their story.
     At another time I might be more interested and be empathic.  I might ask for details, but right now I'm too focused on my own injury and inconvenience to care much about anyone else's.  "Tell me another time," I want to say to these folks, but I nod and say "wow", waiting for them to finish their story before my eyes glaze over or I take another pain pill.
     How rare it is to have someone ask the first question, act interested and probe for details without going on with their own story, to make you the focus of attention rather than him/herself.  And that, of course, is what you want and need.  To feel that someone cares and wants to know about your injury, to share in small way, your pain.  What you don't want is to be expected to feel sorry or impressed with the story of someone who is no longer suffering.
     I am very fortunate to be getting through this ordeal with minimal physical pain.  And I am generously blessed with a community of friends who continue to give me all kinds of physical help and lots of emotional support.
     But everyone please, if you're coming to see me, or planning to phone, leave your injured body stories for another time.