Funny story.  We were at a bar the other night in Buenos Aires with some friends.  Someone was showing off a scar and it quickly escalated into the “My scar is better than your scar” game.  The other guys had some minor injury scars, nothing I thought in comparison to my Z-lefty collarbone break.  I did my, “Check mine out,” whipped out the monster and waited for the boys to scream and the girls to faint at my mutilated shoulder.  Without missing a beat, not one, but TWO, people come back with, “Oh, that’s not so bad,” and the conversation moved on to someone else.

I am healed!  I do not look like a crazy Frankenstein freak!