6 Kids, 3 cats, 1 dog, Mom, and Dad: I remember when or Another story from my past.

April 26, 2005

I remember when or Another story from my past.

When I was a kid a visit to the doctor's office was a rare event.

I broke my hand when I was in 1st grade. We were playing tag at a playground in Philadelphia. This was before child-friendly playgrounds and more in line with the playgrounds described by Bill Cosby in one of his comedy routines. The ground was concrete and safety wasn't a concern.

We were playing tag. I climbed the steps to the slide and realized that if I slid down I would get tagged since my sister was hard on my heels. I decided that it would be better if I ran down the slide. I took two steps and went over the side.

I landed with my hand/arm under one of my legs. I bit my wrist (how the hell I ended up like this I can't imagine) and have a tiny scar from that too. Anyway, I remember it hurt like hell. My dad pulled me to my feet and asked what hurt. I managed to let him know that it was my hand and then he proceeded to ask me if I could move it and if different things hurt when he did them to my hand.

If I had a borderline break he ensured that it was really broken by the time he was done. After much discussion, they decided to take me to the hospital with dire predictions about what would happen to me if I was just being a baby.

I can remember being in the hospital, the x-ray, and the feeling of sweet vindication when they told me it was broken.

My joy was short-lived when they started to talk about how it would feel when the doctor set the bone. They were trying to prepare me, I think, but it just freaked me out.

The doctor came and explained that it didn't need to be set, but that they were only going to splint it because it might require a pin in order to help it heal properly. I was just glad that I didn't have to have it set and a pin didn't sound that bad.

I ended up with a cast after going to the doctor's office the next day and didn't need surgery or a pin for it to heal.

One side incident...We used to play a game while growing up in Philadelphia. All of the row homes had alleys behind them. We would put a kid on the street corner and then a kid would be at the entrance to the alley on the intersecting streets.

The kid would say "Go!" and then the runners would take off. You had to run down the alley, take a hard left or right turn depending on which side you started on, and reach the entrance to the other street before the other kid. There was some bumping and hitting as your paths crossed but mostly you just ran like hell.

I rounded the sharp corner, bumped with the kid, and then slipped when I ran through a puddle. I got a huge cut on the arm that was NOT in the cast. It most definitely should have been stitched but I had been to the doctor already that year so I had to make due with band-aids.

I also got a big lecture and possibly a beating because I might have cracked my cast and that would have meant another trip to the doctor.

Kids these days...they don't know how lucky they are!

Posted by bbarton at April 26, 2005 08:36 AM

Comments

Absolutely. Kids these days are coddled. It's shameful how wimpy we've let them become.

Posted by: Chosen on April 26, 2005 10:53 AM

It was painful just reading this... ouch! then owww!!

Were you proud of the cast on your arm? I remember always being impressed by such things, especially if people had written messages all over it.

Posted by: Deirdre on April 26, 2005 11:05 AM

Wimpy...exactly!

I was proud of it, and lots of people signed it, but I remember it weighing a ton and being itchy too. This was back in the plaster days and not the lightweight fiberglass models of today.

And it must have been summer because I remember my arm being wrapped in a bag from a loaf of bread so I could go in the neighbor's pool. I could go underwater if I held my arm over my head and kept it out of the water!

Posted by: Bob on April 26, 2005 11:16 AM

but did you win the race?

Posted by: anan on April 26, 2005 01:56 PM

Of course I did! ;)

Posted by: Bob on April 26, 2005 02:02 PM

then why are you complaining?

*flees*

Posted by: anan on April 26, 2005 10:51 PM

It's my blog and I'll complain if I want to...You would whine too if this happened to you!

Posted by: Bob on April 26, 2005 11:19 PM

actually, i'd probably be shrieking off a lower level of ozone, but that's beside the point.

Posted by: anan on April 26, 2005 11:30 PM

Yeah, Bob, you big whinger!
LOL

I'm so old, we used to buy bread that didn't even HAVE a wrapper. We lived in the country, and a little van drove around with all the bakery goods in the back, all the loaves of bread in big baskets, not a plastic bag in sight. It was fantastic. Nothing like that any more.

Posted by: Deirdre on April 27, 2005 10:21 AM

Ah...the good ol' days! We used to buy home-made flour tortillas from a Mexican lady when I was in the Army. She sold them warm and fresh off the back of her station wagon's tailgate in the grocery store parkng lot.

Posted by: Bob on April 27, 2005 08:22 PM

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