I remember the day as if it was yesterday. June 16th, 2015, I hit the ground – and I hit it hard. It isn’t even a cool story. I wasn’t doing anything spectacular. In fact, it happened on a bike path on my way to get coffee. Twenty miles per hour to zero in a matter of a few feet, and somewhere in the crash my hand got caught up in the mix.
The words came down on me like a ton of bricks. At 31 years of age, I was sitting in the examination room of my local ER, bawling my eyes out. I could sense the discomfort of the doctor as he stood there, unsure of what to say. All the goals and aspirations I had set and been working toward that summer seemed to go up in smoke when I heard, “Your scaphoid bone is definitely broken.”
For those unfamiliar, the scaphoid bone is a very small and extremely crucial bone in your hand that essentially makes your wrist a wrist. It controls movement in the 360-degree rotation this joint has. It is also a very difficult bone to heal if broken. Blood enters from one end, and if broken badly enough, requires surgery, screws and pins.