Have you ever broken a bone?
It was a sunny Saturday in September of 1972 and I was 12 years old.
One of my sisters and a friend or two were performing flips in the front year. We would start from the steps and head towards the flag pole.
I completed a few flips, but on the last attempt I ran, flipped, and landed on the top of my right foot. There was intense pain and I couldn’t walk. We all shouted for my mother. She came out and off the two of us went to the emergency room. We waited for a few hours for X-rays that confirmed I broke a little bone in the back of my ankle. I came home in a cast to my knee and crutches.
It was a miserable 8 weeks. First with the crutches, and then with a “walking cast” which back then was a rubber block they attached to the bottom of the cast. In my case even with my highest heel on the other side, I was still lopsided, walking like Peg-Leg Pete! I would have been better off with crutches. What a relief it was when the cast finally came off but how weird my leg looked!
But I wasn’t the only one who suffered that weekend….
The incident happened on Saturday, September 9, 1972. My older sister’s 14th birthday and the family party was scheduled for the next day. My mother was in the process of baking her delicious 4 layer chocolate cake with whipped cream between layers and covered with chocolate frosting. She was likely making whatever meal we would be eating beforehand.
She was pretty annoyed with me, but she did get to enjoy her party on Sunday! I was probably very happy I didn’t have to go to church!
Thoughts From The Passenger Seat 