Dad's Favorite Story To Tell About Me

Lexington Memorial Hospital was never the same...

Dad and I c. 1977 or 78

I was pretty much born accident prone.

Those of you who know me know this to be true. I have learned to embrace it. For every ounce of klutz there is an equal measure of really cool stuff in my brain, so I can live with it.

When I was five years old, I decided to go sprinting down the hallway and dive head-first into the corner of a coffee table. It left a mark. It was triangular.

Even as an adult, I have no qualms about shrieking when I’m in pain, so I’m certain that’s exactly what I commenced to doing.

You might say I had a set of lungs. Still do.

I remember Dad scooping me up and placing his handkerchief over the wound. I rode in his lap to the emergency room and he managed to calm me down by the time we arrived. It was a different time when child car seats and seatbelts weren’t a thing.

*Sidenote: I did have a car seat! Dad made it for me. It looked kind of like an easy chair that sat on the back seat. The seat belt went through it, but that was only to hold the car seat in place, not me. The whole point was so I could see out the window. Seeing out the window = distracted and quiet. It was worth Dad building a seat for it!

Back in the ER, I remained calm until I was lashed to a stiff board. Did you know they do that…tie kids down? I mean I didn’t even need a car seat, but they’re going to tie me down in the ER.

Time to scream some more. You don’t give me a chance to hold still? Fine, I sing you the song of my people!

I was saying really wise things like, “Untie me!” and “Just put a bandaid on it and let me go home!”

Sound advice on all fronts from a five year old.

Staff were coming from all over the hospital to see what was happening to me. None of them helped me or took my advice.

Instead, they covered my face with a blue cloth with a hole in it and sewed up my head.

It didn’t even hurt!

I’d like to think that I would have held still for that, but maybe not. I was a bit spirited.

I do know I had a tendency toward hysterics.

Just a short time after this, I dropped a brick on my toe. It exploded, and I was shrieking again.

I made my mom promise not to take me back to the hospital, so she rammed my foot in a ziplock bag full of ice and took me to my dad’s work.

He bandaged the toe, and I started kindergarten wearing a slipper on one foot. I have a picture somewhere. One day, I’ll get them scanned.

Six years later, I sliced open my knee on a flue tile acting a fool. I shrieked at first, but managed to keep it together while they stitched it up and that hurt way more than my head!

“Life is beautiful and terrible and strange.” ~Johnette Napolitano

Our lives are colored by memories like these. Every small moment of our experience shapes us…this idea led to a tangent. I’ll share with you next week.