Have you ever broken a bone?
The bone on my left pinky got broken when I was 9. It got stuck in the hinge of what could’ve been 8 or 10 feet of solid acacia door. My fault. I stifled a cry, the nail died a slow death but I healed fine.
I also have TMD (temporomandibular disorder). My best guess is it’s an injury from the vehicular accident I was in when I was 4. A panicky passenger with leather shoes stepped on my face as I laid partly conscious. It got me pinned between what was either the ceiling or the floor of the bus my pregnant mom and I were in. My mom and I (and my sibling in her tummy) lived through that day.
My left wrist snapped when I was training in MuayThai in my mid 20s. These days, when I spin my wrist, it makes a clicking sound. Pretty cool.
I wasn’t hospitalized for any of those injuries, no casts, no medications whatsoever. So I Googled up to check whether or not it’s true that bones grow back. I found this one from LibreTexts.
Meanwhile, while the nursery rhyme “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me,” negates the possibility of getting injured by words, I differ.
Words have power. Words can cut deep. Words can spark revolutions. And words…
“…and words are all I have to take your love away…” -BeeGees
ancore! 