I was hit by a car and two metatarsals in my right foot and my medial malleolus (the inner top part of my right ankle) were fractured. For the ankle, they did a surgery called an open reduction and internal fixation (ORIF), where two screws were put in to stabilise the fracture so it could heal. This left a fairly large scar, but since it is on the inside of my ankle and frankly, I am grateful to be walking, I don't think much about it.
One thing that brought the difference home, though, was when I was shoe shopping the other day. The nice lady must see a lot of feet and ankles, but when she saw my scar, she literally gasped and then very quickly asked about my being hurt in a very sympathetic way. I guess it does look a bit scary. The last time I saw my surgeon he apologised for the little dimples to the side. They now have a new suture where those little puckers don't show. But I am fine with my scar. After all, it means I survived trauma and recovered. It is sort of a badge of experience, like grey hair. So I found myself reassuring the nice lady a little that I was fine. And I am, thankfully.