This past Monday I went to the orthopedic department of Kaiser for my bi-monthly meeting with the foot care nurse. It has been a nice benefit of follow-up after my stint in the hospital last year. Waiting rooms have their own vibe. There I sat, along with a number of folks who were all trying to act like they weren’t nervous. I watched as a mom wheeled a little boy into the space. He had a fully casted right leg. I found myself making up my own stories as to how he broke it.
They called his name and I waited my turn. My memories went back to the summer of 1954. My parents had bought one of those great back yard swing sets complete with two swings, a glider, ladder and high bar. They did not want us to get hurt so they did not install the ladder. It was placed in the garage. Well, I decided to get the ladder out and prop it up against the house on the concrete patio. I placed it by my bedroom window, where I planned to climb it and get an outside view of my room. I will try to explain this as best I can. As I worked my way up the ladder, it slipped away from the side of the wall, carrying all my weight with it. My arms were underneath the wrung of the ladder, and so when I splatted on the concrete patio, the full force came down on both arms. CRUNCH. Yep, both arms were underneath the ladder and they broke.
Well, I was off to the emergency room with my dad. I have a very distinct memory of the X-rays. The doctor showed my dad and me that all four bones were broken. The next thing was to “put me to sleep”. They put ether on my nose and told me to count. Mind you, I was five. I remember them all laughing at something as I went away. The next thing I knew, I was “waking up” with both arms in full casts.
The next two months I am sure, put my parents through their paces. It was summer time so I had not started Kindergarten. There was no feeding or dressing myself. I remember they got me this really cool plastic straw that was bent and I got a lot of milkshakes. Somewhere in the family archives of 8MM movies there is a scene of me trying to play croquet. Yes, I could hold the mallet and swing it with pendulum precision.
I remember also the day I got my casts off. X-rays again, and then they sawed through the plaster cast, that by that time, were autographed with an array of family, neighbor, church kids etc. They promised me it would not hurt, “just tickle” and that it did. Here was the fun part. My arms went straight up in the air. Dr. Hammel explained to me that “your arms were used to all that weight and they are adjusting”. It was about a day before they found their rightful place.
It was the next summer that I was jumping down the stairs and broke the “march bone” in my foot. I knew the drill. This time there was no putting me to sleep. I just got another cast to be signed.
The young kid who went ahead of me I am sure, has a story as to how he broke his leg. His cast was some sort of fiberglass and there were no autographs on it. It was a really nice aqua blue but I would opt for white plaster still.
Onward and Upward,
Mark
Lyfting Me Up 