Tuesday, February 26, 2008

How my bad injury karma started at a young age.

So I told you I would tell some stories of my youth and not spend every blog complaining about some sort of knee whine. I am here to follow through on that promise. This is a story of an innocent little blond girl with a love for grape bubblegum.

It all started one warm summer day. I was four and a half and my older sister was five almost six. My grandparents were visiting from Connecticut and we loved it when they came because my grandpie would always spoil us by buying us a little thing of candy or gum at the check out of stores when we were with him. My mother and grandmother were picking strawberries and weeding corn while us girls played outside on the swing set and in the sandbox and yes we lived in the peaceful country exactly as you are picturing it. So my father needed to get some paint from the store and so when we heard that grandpa and dad were going to the store, my little intelligent brain put 2 and 2 together to equate candy at checkout and my sister and I begged to tag along.

We jumped into our super rad gold station wagon which had a open trailer for hauling attached to the back and off we went to Farm Fleet. We bought the paint and upon checkout, after careful deliberation I chose purple bubble yum (in the five pack, you remember). That gum was an explosion of flavour for all of five minutes before becoming blah, but in those five minutes, delicious. We hopped back in the back of the car, us girls put our seat belts on and slammed our doors and off we went. Or so my father thought. I think I did put my seatbelt on, at first, but then for whatever reason, I took it off, maybe to get a better looks at the corn field we were passing. And apparently, I didn't really slam my door, so much as shut it without really clicking the close knotch. So when I leaned against it to get that good look at that combine...

"...little girl prattle...where is Hannah?" Screeeeeeeeeeeech. Car slams on brakes and father runs up the road looking for his missing daughter. I am sure it wasn't funny at the time, but it sounds funny now right? So it has always been a black hole in my mind, but apparently I fell out going around a curve at about 40 mph (centrifugal force and all science peeps). They picked me up, I was bleeding heavily out of my head with an obvious broken arm but apparently was crying although not really lucid. They drove me a couple of miles to the ER while poor little six-year-old Sj sat sitting in the back seat crying.

I guess I came to for a moment in the emergency room (I do vaguely remember this) and asked about my purple gum that I lost out of the road during the flight. I was very sad to have lost it. My mom got the call, came to the hospital in a panic, I am sure yelled at my poor father, and then freaked out when she saw me. I guess while I was in the operating/emergency room, they stuck my freaked out older sister in the waiting room by herself and told her to sit there and not to move while she cried not knowing what was going on. I awoke sometime later lying in a hospital bed with a broken arm strapped to my chest, 69 stitches in my chin and head which had to be partially shaved and numerous other bandages from head to toe.

I remember staying in this hospital for three days, of which my father spent every night sleepign in a chair by my side. I remember being sooooo excited the first time I was able to go #2 for the nurses that I wouldn't leave the little kid toilet until my mother returned from the cafeteria where she was buying lunch. I remember getting tons of visitors who gave me money and presents and thinking "hey this isn't so bad". And mostly I remember my sister generously bringing her packet of strawberry bubble gum to the hospital and offering me half of it since I had lost mine.

I had to keep my arm strapped to my chest for a couple of months (do they still do that) and learn how to use it all over again. I remember hating to have to take the horse pills that I was forced to swallow several times a day and using vitamin E on my scars. Luckily my hair grew back and covered the dent in my head, and the chin scar is aligned with the fold in your chin and hardly noticeable anymore. And of course my brilliance wasn't tarnished either obviously...

Now for the good part...photographic evidence.

This is a photo of me being wheeled out of the the hospital after three days.

Still no arm but back at it. What a belly!

My cousin and I on our first day of kindergarten. If you look close, you will see that I have no arm in my left sleeve.

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