This morning at church, Thad took a moment out of the service to tell us about his son's breaking his arm. Apparently diving off the top bunk onto a bean bag, didn't quite work out and so now his son is in a cast.
Thinking about Thad's son broken arm reminded me of the time I broke my arm.
We were living in Hawaii at the time. It was the summer between first and second grade. My good buddy, Kevin Dolan, had broken his arm and had a huge cast that went up his entire arm. He had to wear a sling and I seem to remember him having an iron-on from
Star Trek the Motion Picture on his sling. At the time, I thought to myself that I was fortunate to have not broken my arm because, like now, I loved swimming. Summer time and not being able to get in the pool just didn't seem right.
The day I broke my arm was one of the worst of my life. And it should have been one of the best. I was signed up with a summer day camp and the day in question, we were going to go bowling. Now, I've never been, but I'd seen Fred play on the
Flintstones and so I was really looking forward to going and trying it. It looked so easy on TV. How could it not be easy in real life?
Well, since day camp took place on base, we walked to the bowling alley. Which at my tender age, it seemed like we were on the Batan death march. We finally got there and I was ready to start knocking down some pins.
I got a bowling ball, stepped up on the lane and let 'er rip! And the ball glided along for about three inches and then was drawn to the gutter. This was a pattern that would be repeated all day for 10 long frames. I may have knocked over one, maybe two pins, I'm not sure. All I know is it was very, very disappointing.
Needless to say, the Batan death march back to the school where our parents would pick us up seemed that much longer this time around.
We got back and had some time to kill, so we were unleahsed upon the playground. One part of the playground was a set of balance beams--not parallel the ground, but big, round steps jutting up out of the ground with some space in between them. I watched large groups of kids run across them and thought--I can do it. So, I got in line.
I started and went up with no problem. Then, I got to the tallest of the beams and looked at the step down. It might as well have been the Grand Canyon...it looked that far apart. And it seemed as if I were up on top of the Empire State Building. I remember stepping out, my foot hitting the lower beam, thinking, "I'll be OK" and then plummeting down. I landed on my left arm.
I'm OK, I thought. Until I tried to push up on my left arm. Needless to say, this did not feel good. I told a counselor that I was hurt and thought I'd broken my arm. I was assured I hadn't. To make me feel better, I got to ride on the counselor's shoulders as we went to where our parents would pick us up. Along the way, there were lights on the ceiling and I was encourage to show I wasn't hurt by touching them all with my broken arm. I did this twice before the pain discouarged me.
So, Mom picked me up, I got a fun trip to the ER and got a plaster cast on my arm. I remember it must have been a serious injury as my dad showed up with my comic book collection while I waited and was good. See, I'd lost them for doing something and I thought they were gone forever.
So, I spent the summer in a cast. The one other thing I remember about it was that my parents would only let family members sign my cast--something I'm still a bit bitter about to this day.
posted by Michael Hickerson at 3/06/2005 07:52:00 PM |
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