From my fingertips.

It’s been two weeks since the accident. The pain has waned my once-soaring spirit. The pain hasn’t improved in proportion to my appearance.

I can become an incognito hillbilly by keeping my lips closed. The feeling of the chasm in my mouth is right on the tip of my tongue and cannot be ignored. It is in my face, literally. When I saw the dentist on Wednesday, he had some bleak news for me.

That will be my reality for the next 3-6 months. Until my fractured maxilla heals, the nearly dead incisor needs to hang in there. Eventually, it must come out as its root has fractured.

I will need two dental implants and two crowns for the cracked lower teeth. The third chipped tooth can be filled in. When I see the dentist again later this week, I will receive something called a “flipper.” It’s a retainer with a built-in tooth. Hopefully, this will also reinforce my loose tooth and let me chew again. I miss eating bread the most of all.

When Jordi was with me in the ER, he pointed at my bleeding upper lip. “You have a hole.”

A hole?! With all the blood and swelling, I couldn’t see what he saw. Now that the swelling has subsided, I can flip my upper lip. I can see a scar on the inside and a small one on the outside, right below my left nostril. Does that mean I got an upper lip piercing done with my tooth?

I stopped by my place of suspended employment to say hello. Naturally, concerned and interested folks welcomed me. I felt valued. Later in the evening, as I was writing this post, I started my descent into self-pity. I’m tired of talking about this. The pain and discomfort are there from the moment I wake up until I fall asleep. Even then, I woke up at 4am this morning to pee and discovered that I was bleeding a bit from my gum line, presumably because I sometimes grind my teeth in my sleep.

This accident is a significant life event, and I will continue to write about my progress. From now on, if anyone has questions related to my accident, I’m going to direct them to my blog. I appreciate the concern. I’m simply tired of being reminded of how much this accident will impact my life for the next few months.

Friends, please talk to me about anything but this. Send me photos of your pets; tell me about your javelin-throwing experience, and teach me a new word like “gruntled.”

(I have been asking people whether they’ve ever thrown a javelin. I learned to throw a shot put ball and a discus in school, but we had no pointy sticks. So far, I seem to be an outlier in my javelin-throwing inexperience!)

After visiting the bike shop, I headed to a coffee shop to drop off a thank you card. The lady who helped facilitate communication while I was bleeding on the bridge was one of the owners of a coffee shop in my neighbourhood. So, I was able to bestow a $10 Starbucks gift card upon this good Samaritan. Just kidding: it was a thank-you card.

The lady whose name is Jamie wasn’t there. Instead, I was surprised to find that a former employee of my workplace was one of the baristas. This guy quit before I started working at the bike shop, but I knew who he was. He would often drop by the bike shop for a visit. I wonder if his boss mentioned anything about helping a deaf cyclist and if he made the connection. I hoped so because I couldn’t acknowledge his wave with a smile.

Victoria is small, and Thursday’s visit to the clinic supported this sentiment. The attending physician had also experienced being hit by a driver while cycling. Furthermore, he is a customer of the bike shop I work at and has sons who are members of Victoria’s amateur cycling teams. He understood the pain I was going through and empathized with the stacks of paperwork I had been subjected to by various insurance companies. The purpose of my visit focused on the latter.

I have one remaining piece of paperwork to submit to ICBC, and I need it completed by a notary public. Red tape galore!

The old lady who hit me has yet to report to ICBC. Until she does, my case is “pending”. Either she’s traumatized or dead.

I told my therapist about the peacefulness that washed over me after my accident, the disconnect I felt from the physical trauma inflicted upon me, and how my rekindled appreciation for life was already regressing. Her suggestion was to continue practicing gratitude. Dwell on the good things.

So, to wrap up this post, here are some of these swell things:

• Every soup I’ve made has been tasty. This black bean soup is my favourite new recipe.
• Dentistry advancements. My flipper is being made based on a 3D scan of my mouth!
• Lactose-free ice cream exists.
• I received a get-well card from my friends Maggie and Davy.
• New video games: Hades, Super Mario RPG, and Animal Crossing.
• I walked 7km home after my doctor appointment and saw many lovely gardens and wildflowers on the way.
• Thanks to my candle collection, my place always smells divine.
• I’m already used to not communicating verbally.
• One of my riding buddies is a Notary Public!