Sunday, October 14, 2012

this is me: day #13

What is your most prominent childhood memory?

The one that instantly pops into my head is when I was about 8-9 years old.  My mother had just gotten home from the hospital from having a hysterectomy.  My grandmother was staying with us.  It must have been a Saturday because I was riding my bike on the sidewalk in front of our house and because my dad was home too.

So I'm riding my bike, the one with the big handle bars and the banana seat.  Kinda like this

Anyway I am "snaking" on my bike, which is what we called it when you rode from one side of the sidewalk to the other in a snake pattern.  At one point during this ride, I turned the front wheel too sharp and must have over-corrected because I went over the handle bars onto the concrete with my face.

I got up and felt around in the neighbor's yard for my glasses. I found them and they were scuffed on the top of the frame and a little on the lens.  "I'm dead!"  was the only thing I could think, I broken my glasses which in the kid world is punishable by DEATH.  So I started examining my glasses and walking my bike home.  I put the glasses on and tried to arrange my bangs over the scuffed part, maybe they wouldn't notice.

As I walk my bike up the driveway toward the backyard, I see on the concrete, a red drip.  And then another. . . huh?  Then hand to head . . . and IT'S COVERED WITH BRIGHT RED BLOOD!  Yikes!!!

I screamed at the top of my lungs, but only after I saw the blood.  Prior to this I had no pain and felt relatively okay besides the sick feeling for breaking my glasses.  I dropped my bike and ran inside.  I see my grandmother doing dishes in the kitchen and the look on her face was awful.  But after that I saw nothing.

I didn't pass out, but my grandmother put a dishtowel on my head to stop the bleeding and I couldn't see a thing.  So the rest of this memory is based on what I heard and not what I saw.

Next thing I remember someone carried me to the car and now I am sitting in my mother's lap, still holding the dishtowel on my head.  I know my dad is driving, because we are in the passenger seat.  I try to peek out from beneath the towel, but my mom is screaming at me to leave the towel on my head.  "Do you want to bleed to death?"

NO!! I don't want to die!

So we get to the ER.  They have to wheel my mother into the hospital in a wheel chair because she just had surgery.  They put me on a stretcher and finally take off the towel.  There is a really bright light above me.  The doctor says, "We are going to give you some stitches now, okay?"  I nod.  Then he says, "Wow this is a pretty big cut, I can see that pretty clean white bone in there.  That's the cleanest bone I have seen in a long time."


I ask, "What was that?"  The doctor looks over me and says, "That was your dad, I think he passed out."

So there I am getting 8 stitches in my forehead about 1.5 inches above my right eye with my mom in a wheel chair and my dad on a stretcher beside me.

Daisypath Christmas tickers

1 comment:

  1. That must have been a sight. I remember those days, I was in glasses since second grade and it was nearly impossible not to ruin those things with how accident prone I was. I had a similar, but less traumatic experience riding my bike...except, I wasn't snaking I was trying to read my watch while biking.


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