Dem Broken Bones | Convalescing in a Lonely World of Screens

(Imperfectly human voiceover by Nik.)

I broke my first bone on the last day of kindergarten. My elbow was shattered from being pulled from the top of a jungle Jim called the eagles nest. Me and the boys were playing king of the hill and just as I was pulling myself up in the center someone grabbed me by the ankle and young to be the ground. The impact of falling down onto the playground grass and sand rung in my ears as I laid in the center with a new sensation and left me unable to move.

I spent that summer in a cast and isolated from the neighborhood play, running through sprinklers, bike rides, evening games of flashlight tag, swimming and all of the other summertime activities replaced with countless hours in front of the television.

At the end of summer, just before the cast was to be removed, the dog at daycare jumped up on me and knocked me down. My cast broke my landing on the concrete of the garage floor and also fractured the newly healing break. Which started the clock over again. The rebreak did not heal correctly, my growth plate was damaged and it eventually required surgery leaving me in a cast well into the second grade. Without the surgery, my arm would not have grown.

My second broken bone was my kneecap which was broken for me by three teenagers and a tree branch in Powderhorn Park in South Minneapolis. An after dark early evening winter walk home collided with an assault that resulted in a shattered kneecap requiring surgery. What was salvageable of the bone cobbled together with two pens and a wire.

Just as I was ready to start walking again a friend's dog swiped me from behind on the stairwell as I was leaving an Ally McBeal viewing party. I tried to catch myself with my bad leg and the reactive seizure of my muscles pulled my kneecap apart requiring another surgery and reconstruction.

My third broken bone was my left tibia. First fractured from a trip on an uneven sidewalk after an afternoon visit to a bar in the East Village. Just after it healed, I headed out to a birthday party on a rainy summer Manhattan night on my first day off of crutches. Cane in one hand and umbrella in the other, one misstep on a slick wet manhole cover landed me with a crack and roll into the gutter next to the sidewalk where strangers tried to pulled me up to stand. I knew it had broken again.

In my lifetime I had three broken bones all broken twice. I have become familiar with the hours spent alone convalescing, immobilized and waiting for a bone to heal. I was carried through the recoveries mostly through television, comfort foods and pain meds. Each time though there was a through line of company; my parents as a child, my mother, close friends and lovers and in Minneapolis, and then the kindness, generosity and presence of strangers in New York, many who became life long friends.

A little over two weeks ago, as I was taking a walk over lunch to settle my mind from a chaotic workday I encountered a low hanging drone. It seemed to be following me, hanging low and pacing me just above or just behind me. It caught my attention and focus while I hit the sidewalk wrong. Feeling the fall coming, I gave those around my best Three Stooges. Flinging and flailing my arms and legs trying to re-center and stand only to miss and fall straight onto my shoulder with all 175 pounds of me on the concrete sidewalk. I heard the familiar crunch. I laid for a moment to catch my breath and tried to move my arm while making my way back to my feet while doing my well practiced tests in search for a break. Uncertain I went to urgent care where the first pass of the X-rays read as no break. I later received a call that after further review I had in fact fractured my shoulder socket. More than that, an uncommon and hard to heal fracture that requires three weeks of immobilization.

Immobilization requires that I have my arm in a sling near my body. No repeated motion, no weight bearing, no stretching, no typing, etc. All forcing me to rethink how I get the basics done and foster rest and convalescing. This fracture is 1mm away from being a bigger problem that could require surgery. The nod toward my life’s pattern reminding me that a second break is the width of a grain of sand away.

This is not my first rodeo. I have spent months with broken bones, alone and with a pet to care for. What has been most noticeable to me this go around has been the access and reliance on technology. It has been the vehicle for keeping connected with friends and loved ones, offered me access to easy mindless entertainment, given me access to information and data about my injury and prescriptions, brought me food delivery, and allowed me to type through dictation and predictive text.

Zoom calls, phone calls, and short visits aside, it is lonely to recover from an injury alone. The other hours of endlessly sitting with nothing to do:

No work to do because I can’t.

No hobbies to do, because I can’t.

No errands, no projects, no way to play with my dog who is restless and rowdy.

Nothing to do but sit with a pain pill muddled mind waiting for the body to heal. Hours in bed, trying to find physical, mental and emotional comfort.

I have been struggling with the nothing to do and no where to go. Life has programed me to be productive with the down time, life is demanding I don’t right now. I have leaned into the presence of technology which has oddly made it feel more lonely. I can only watch so much Netflix and MAX. TikTok has started rotting my brain and perspective. And food delivery went from exciting and nourishing to shallow and empty real fast.

Last week, I ordered delivery from a local ramen house. Japanese curry is by far one of my most favorite comfort foods. Seeking warmth and pleasure, I splurged the extra cost of delivery from a place I would normally walk to.

In my mind, it’d be quick and novel. Quicker than walking to fetch it and bring it home again. Less physical effort and risk of falling by being out in the world. My past is constantly shouting at me to be extra cautious about putting myself at risk of re-injury.

I was informed that my order would be delivered by one of the robot couriers that cloud the sidewalks of my neighborhood. I was entertained by the notion. And found myself sitting and watching the dot on the screen move its way up the five blocks to my home.

The novelty was short lived as there was something about fetching a bag of warm comfort food out of a hot box on wheels that felt extra sad to me. It took me some time to name it. It was the lack of connection. I recognized that even a hand off of food from a stranger, with a hello and a thank you would boost my spirits. More than warm delicious food and entertainment, what I have been craving most is connection.

I look forward to getting back to life and the little things like being able to cook for myself and my dog again, doing chores around the house, going for long walks, typing with two hands. Hell, I am even looking forward to going back to work even though it’s remote, just for the almost human interaction.

While in many ways, I am an old pro at living with broken bones, I am also very tired of going it alone, especially in the most vulnerable times. It’s a lonely world where technology promises convenience and entertainment. But no matter how far technology advances, it will never replace the warmth, tender caringness of human presence and connection.

I am looking forward to feeling less fragile, less reliant on technology and back into the world of human connection. Most of all, I am looking forward to breaking the cycle of my second breaks.

Hope I didn’t just jinx myself.

(*please excuse typos and mishaps from voice to text and one handed typing)