January 10, 1995… The day I learned I could fly…

There are a few days from my childhood that stick out in my memory as clear as if they had happened just yesterday. This is one of those days.

As is the case with most memorable days, it started just like any other. I woke up, got ready, and made the walk up the hill to school. It was windy that day. It was a good thing the hill on the way to school was steep, because there were a few times the wind gusts were so strong they pushed me forward and I’d have to balance myself with my hand on the sidewalk in front of me to keep from planting my face in its place. I made it to school wind ruffled and cold, but in one piece. That, however, did not last long.

Morning classes went as usual. Recess was cold and windy, but nothing to make a fuss over. More classes, then lunch. It was at this time my friends and I were getting ancy and wanting to stretch our legs, run, play, and do the things any normal 5th grader would do at lunch break. After emptying our trays and putting them in the wash area, we headed out around the back of the school on our way to the playground… And that is when it happened. In our ingenious little 5th grader minds, we had come up with this game called tornado. You spin as fast as you can, run as fast as you can, and try to keep your balance, all while holding the front parts of your coat out to your sides giving you ‘wind resistance’ and making it so you can’t spin as fast… or something like that. We were all spinning, running, laughing, and trying not to fall. It was great! All of a sudden one of those wind gusts I mentioned earlier showed its face. It had its eye on me, and was set for devastation! Those sides of my coat I was holding out for wind resistance acted like a parasail of sorts as the wind caught in them and lifted my wiry little frame up off the ground, and I was airborne! The wind decided I was too much of a burden to carry and dropped me about 10 to 15 feet from where it picked me up, directly on my right arm successfully breaking both bones and compacting my arm to around two inches shorter than it once was. PAIN! Pain like I had never experienced! I screamed! I cried! And then, as my friends were attempting to help me up it hit me… They were all seeing me cry! Dear God, why did I have to be such a baby about it! Tried as I may, I could not stop the tears. Ten shades of red, and covered in gravel, tears, blood, leaves and who knows what else I turned the corner and ran smack dab into my crush. Ryan. The dreamy 5 foot nothing 80 pounds of pure 5th grade hotness! My mind wailed “Could this get ANY worse?!” It could. It did.

I got in the office, gave the nurse my home phone number, and laid down in the dark room they reserved for the genuinely sick students to await my mother’s arrival. The nurse came in to break the news. They couldn’t get ahold of my mum. Where could she be? She was a stay at home mom. Aren’t they known for staying home to eat all the good food and watch TV and play with the cool toys while we kids slave away at school? What else was so important that she wouldn’t be home to answer the call of the school nurse requesting she come pick up her mangled daughter?!? Then it hit me, it was Tuesday. My mum went to my grandma’s house on Tuesdays. My grandma lived forty five minutes away. My mum was driving, that meant almost an hour. (Sorry momma, it’s true) The nurse called my grandma’s house to deliver the mangled daughter message, and I sat there in shock, literally and figuratively. The nurse then came in to see if there was anything she could do to ease my pain (and shut up my inevitable whining and whimpering.) She made a makeshift splint out of magazines, that day’s newspaper, and tape. I tearfully read the paper wrapped around my arm until my mum got there. Well, that and planned all the mean things I would say to her once she arrived. How DARE she not be there for me!? How DARE she make me wait, hurting, while she drove so slowly?!

Finally outside in the main office I hear her voice, “I’m here to pick up Maren.” Tears once again filled my eyes, she pulled through! She showed up and was going to make everything better like she always did. She came and hugged me, tearfully apologizing for not being faster. She helped me to the car and off we went to make my arm better. We got to the doctors office and as they were taking off the newspaper splint, they explained that it had done nothing to help my arm and were quietly laughing at the nurses attempt to ‘help.’ Laughing, that is, until they tried to pull it off and it wouldn’t come. It was stuck. Some bratty, snot nosed, spoiled little child that was too lazy to walk the ten steps to the garbage had put his chewed gum on the top of the paper, and the school nurse in her haste to wrap my arm up had overlooked it. Not only was my arm somewhat hairy for being a 10 year old girl, making it pretty bad to be gum-stuck, but the gum had fused itself directly where my arm had broken. The nurses pulled, scrubbed, rubbed, and finally got most of the gross gum off, only to say “I guess we could have given you the numbing shot before all of that, huh?” with a little wink. UGH! The wink did not make it hurt any less, I assure you! Then came the shot. Not a shot in the shoulder like you would think, nope! A huge star shaped shot, directly in to my forearm, right at the break. OUCH! They reset my arm with the most high tech contraption I’ve come upon to this day… a clothes hanger with five Chinese finger traps attached to it, and a weight draped over my elbow. GENIUS I tell you! I almost passed out as it popped into place, but after that, I was good to go! I got my temporary cast, and had to go back a week later to get my cool, purple, up to my arm pit cast that rapidly lost its cool status as I learned how itchy it was.

Here are a few tips for anyone planning to get cast-ed up to their arm pit… First of all, the pit of your elbow is going to itch like crazy, pens work great for this. Tip two, make sure you take the lid off the pen before sticking it down your cast to assist in scratching. Tip three, needle nose pliers work great to remove pen lids from elbow pits, but word to the wise, don’t make your mum angry while she is doing this, pliers hurt when they pinch your skin. Finally, keep in mind pens have ink in them, so don’t be surprised when you have a makeshift tattoo down the front of your arm for six weeks following the removal of the itchy cast. And for any of you wondering, yes I still occasionally fly. Even better, I’ve worked hard to perfect the landing into something a bit less detrimental.