All day I've been thinking it was 20 years ago today, but I just figured out it was 21. I was riding my bike to work, and it was raining slightly. I had to be there at 1:00 and I had slept late and not eaten. I picked up a doughnut at the the shop on the way and put it in my backpack. I was hurrying and not paying attention, and I almost missed my turn at the bottom of the hill. I turned too quickly and the bike slid out from underneath me, causing me to pivot down on my hip. The result was instant shock and intense pain. I had to lay in the rain for about 1/2 an hour before an ambulance got there, and several more hours of emergency room/pain medications/X-ray/Orthopedic surgeon consultation before it was determined that my femur was splintered in 4 places near the hip. I had to have emergency surgery involving a pin, some kind of fake metal joint, 4 screws and 37 (if I remember correctly) staples to close the whole mess.
Result: 2 surgeries, 1 nasty-thigh-long scar, and an uncanny ability to predict impending changes in the weather. I hardly ever think about it until April 13th rolls around. I always wonder what it would have been like if I hadn't screwed up my leg. How I wouldn't limp when I get tired, or how people wouldn't stare at the swimming pool or beach. The weird thing is, I'm pretty proud of my scar, and I feel bad for the people who see it for the first time. I can see the shock on their faces and how they try to pretend they didn't notice. I want to make them feel more comfortable by acknowledging it and telling them what happened.
I'm not sad, I just can't believe how much time has passed since the accident. In a couple of years I will have lived with the scar longer than I lived without it. That's just so weird.