I found out a couple of days ago, thanks to an X-ray, that I broke my collarbone (clavicle) when I slipped and fell on the ice in front of the Jogorku Kenesh (or Parliament) building about a month a half ago. I knew I landed hard because the guy across the street stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me fall and didn’t move until I stood up, which took a little while because I almost lost consciousness and then needed to assess whether I could stand. The break also explains why it was taking me so long to recover from what I had been calling a “wrenched shoulder.”
Friday morning I met with a surgeon, the father of a physician friend of mine, for his assessment and treatment recommendation. He told me the fracture was well on the way to healing on its own and if I didn’t feel better in 10 days he would pursue one of two options, in order of preference: cut to remove the pointed end of the break, which has slid over the top of the bone on the other side of the break, and may be aggravating some muscle or, if that doesn’t work, he will re-break the bone and set it. (Now doesn’t that sound like fun?) He said if I continue to heal I can expect to return to “normal” with no long-term effects. Methinks that’s a much better option.