It Always Comes In Threes…

I have joined a fantastic group of ladies, who are involved in a weekly blog project. Every Thursday, we will dazzle you with our insight on various topics. And each week, we take turns coming up with the idea for the blog topic. Please check out their blogs as well, listed under my Blogroll section. Just click on:

Froggie (Tracey): An experiment in knitting, writing- and life

Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.

Mom Of Many (Susanna): One Mom’s perspective on life, raising kids, knitting and other unrelated topics.

It was my turn this week, and my topic was: What is the worst physical trauma (or pain) you’ve ever been in?

The go to for any woman who has had children would be childbirth. I feel as though I’ve talked enough about that experience, though.

When I was 16, I was a bad girl. I was rarely in school. I skipped a lot. One day, some friends of mine and I decided to skip a few classes, and head to our old hangout, Dunkin’ Donuts. Dunkin’s as we called it was located just a few blocks from school. It was the perfect place to hide out, and grab a bite to eat in the meantime.

Dunkin’s was located on a busy street. Behind it, roughly 12 feet below, was an alley. One of my manly guy friends (all of 16, mind you) decided it would be cool to jump down into the alley below us. He slid his body along the length of the wall leading down, holding onto the ledge, and then jumped, so he only had a few feet of a landing. He was waving at us to join him.

I was unimpressed. At 16, I was never one to be shown up by any boy. If a boy could do it, I could do it better. I was the girl who refused to wear a purse, opting for a wallet instead, and I’d wear it in my back pocket, just like a guy would. My girlfriends decided I was nuts when I told them I’d be jumping the wall, too. They went around and down the street, to join our guy friend, who was waiting for me. I didn’t take into account HOW he had scaled the wall. I only knew he had jumped, and so I jumped right off that 12 foot wall, and took flight.

“Wow. This is farther down than I thought.” The last thought in my head, before I landed hard.

My right foot took most of the brunt, and I crumpled to my right side. An intense shooting pain throbbed from my toes, and into the arch.

“Sara!” One of my girlfriends tried to help me up. I gingerly got to a standing position, and when I tried to put pressure on my right foot, it was as though my foot stopped working. I wasn’t allowed to place it onto the ground. The throbbing got worse. “Oh, you just sprained it. I do that all the time when I play soccer. You need to walk it off.” That would be my guy friend, responding to my pain. Another girlfriend decided she should remove my shoe, in case there was swelling. And lo and behold, there was. An incredible amount of it.

I somehow managed to hobble back up to Dunkin’s, and I called a friend of mine on a payphone. “Why aren’t you in school?” She demanded. “I broke my foot”. Was my retort.

“You’d say anything to get out of school!”

“No, seriously. I think I broke my foot.”

My friend drove out to pick me up from Dunkin’s, and took me to the hospital. My dad met us there. After x-rays, a doctor placed one up on the lights for me to examine. He pointed to three cracks, right along  the three bones in my right foot. “Your foot is broken.” He said this to me, and even though I had told people I thought it was broken, I didn’t really believe that. I fully expected the doctor to tell me it was a bad sprain. “It’s not broken.” I said this to him, and he laughed. “Miss, I’m the doctor. Are you going to argue with me?”

The next two days were incredibly rough. I was fitted with a temporary leg brace, until I could get a cast put on. Blood was collecting into the bottom of my foot. It constantly throbbed and ached. On top of that, I ended up getting horribly sick, and was running a fever. I’ve read somewhere how bones breaking can at times cause sickness like that. Mother nature wasn’t kind, either. She decided to bestow upon me the woman’s curse. So there I was, broken foot, really sick, and my period, all at one time.

I wasn’t someone you wanted to be around.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “It Always Comes In Threes…”

  1. Ouch!!! I’ve never actually broken anything, knock on wood, but I can imagine how painful that would be.
    I was amused about the person saying you’d say anything to get out of school. Sounds like something I’d say to my kids. LOL!

  2. LOL oh those were the days. Yes I vividly remember you breaking your foot…I was there…one of the smart ones (LOL) who walked down the street, lol. It’s interesting to me how you left out our visit to your home while you were recovering. Perhaps it was meant more for us to laugh about.

    Leah

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s