Sunday, February 11, 2007

(Not So) Sweet Inspiration.

I had been trying to think of something to post about for most of the day, and then when I came back to my room it hit me like a door in the face: literally.
You see, we all have routines, things that simply come naturally. Well, after about 5 months of coming back to the same dorm room I have gotten into a pretty good routine when it comes to making sure the door is locked and, when I know my roommate is asleep, making sure it closes quietly and gets locked after its shut. This is where it began.
I came back to the room tonight, opened the door and as usual was about to turn around to "help" it close and lock it when something completely out of the ordinary happened. My foot was, apparently, in the wrong place. The door stopped suddenly and my face slammed forehead first into the corner of the door. I laughed it off initially, and was slightly distracted when my roommate perked up from his bed said, "Who's there..." laid down and went right back to sleep without saying another word (kind of like the watch dog that barely barks at an intruder). Anyhow, I then began to realize that a welt was forming directly over my right eye and I had a bit of a headache (this faded quickly though).
The entire experience reminded me of the clumsiness that so often occurs when one is going through a growth spurt. I was no exception. In fact, I attribute my one major broken bone to a growth spurt, well, kind of...
Our Seventh grade teacher had taken a month off and it was the last day for our substitute, so, since we were hardly focusing on anything anyhow, she told us that we could spend the last hour of the day out on the playground. The boys played football while the girls...I don't know what they did, a couple of them played football but most of them just went off and talked somewhere I think. I'm getting off topic...It was the last play of the game and my best friend, who was playing quarterback, told everyone to go deep. Amazingly, he passed it to me (I say amazingly because I was the shortest boy in the class at the time). I began running for the end zone but was quickly overcome by one of the tallest guys in our class, and also one of the fastest. Being at a disadvantage in two ways I began zigzagging across the field and switching the ball from one side to the other (since it was the last play of the game he was not trying to get me down but was instead going for a fumble). Eventually I couldn't out maneuver him and he was able to swat the ball. We both sprang for it. I got there first and wrapped my arms around the ball. He dove just a split second after me and landed directly on my elbow, the weight of his body pushing my wrist and forearm into the ground.
I have always had a low threshold for pain and nearly fainted four or five times on the way to the office where my mom was (she was the school secretary). She rolled out the mat usually reserved for sick children, got a damp cloth, an ace bandage and some Aspirin and told me to relax and rest as she performed "mom surgery." My wrist never swelled up or turned black and blue, but it was sore for a few days after so I continued to wear the ace bandage. And then came kickball...and here's where the clumsiness kicks in...
The principal was also the gym teacher and on this particular spring day he decided that we should play kickball. It was my turn at "bat," and since I was a soccer player I was generally confident concerning my kicking ability. I stepped up to the plate and awaited the pitch, the ball rolled toward me, I revved up, stepped into my kick and...stepped directly on top of the rolling ball. I fell straight down to the tarmac and smacked my bruised and bandaged left wrist against my side. I got up feeling almost exactly like a few days earlier and asked if I could go see my mom. I thought I had really broken my wrist this time. The principal told me that he couldn't excuse me and that I should be fine.
That night my mom took me to the doctor...it was in fact a broken wrist, although only a "green-stick" fracture. The next day at school I had a few balloons, a "Get Well" card and a bag of M&M's from the principal waiting for me on my desk.

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