The First Time

It was a hot August day in Bedford, Nova Scotia. I was building a fort in my much cooler basement when the doorbell rang. I leapt from my fort and ran to my front door. There stood my best friends Brooke, and Renee, who also happened to be my neighbors. They were on the way to the park with their babysitter and asked me to join. Excitedly I went downstairs to grab my jump rope, which had been used in the construction my fort. The fort was made of a blanket, my jump rope and an old chair.

Unfortunately there was a staple sticking out of the chair where the fabric was supposed to be secured in place. I wasn’t paying attention and my lanky leg brushed against the staple hard. It sliced through my knee like a knife through a banana and a river of blood began to flood my sock. I screamed so loud in agonizing pain my father rushed to see what was wrong and picked me up like a distressed damsel. He took me to the bathroom to assess the damage and to put pressure on my wound.

I sat on the counter with a washcloth over my knee, looking down at my once beautiful white lace socks that now were almost brown, darkened by my blood.  The tears ran down my face faster than the blood down my leg but it no longer hurt, i was crying in fear. I could see the bone in my knee just barely sticking out like a sandbar in the middle of the ocean. My father told me I needed stitches, so he grabbed my mother and off to the emergency room we went.

It was a long wait, and was the first time I remember going to the hospital. After about two hours I got very bored like a typical restless five year old. So, my father decided he would go home to get my coloring books and crayons. Upon his return I went to meet him at the emergency doors where I also saw my first arrest. There was a man running across the parking lot being chased by two police officers. He was a larger fellow and was unable to fit through the doors quick enough. I was laughing because my father was signing the cops theme song “Bad boys, bad boys, what’cha gonna do when they come for you?” (Bad Boys, Inner Circle)

After about six more hours of waiting and coloring, I was finally able to see a doctor. He gave me 13 stitches in my right knee and I was good to go. Before I left I said to my mother, “I should have brought my blue pants and he could have stitched them too”. I was referring to the pants my cat had shredded with her claws. My mother snickered and we left.

The following week I don’t remember much about, however I do remember starting grade primary. I was not able to bend my knee so went to school a few days early to explain my situation to my teacher. I walked funny with my stiff leg, unable to bend in fear of ripping my stitches but none of the kids seemed to notice. The only time I got asked what was wrong was when we had to sit on the floor campfire style for story time. I either had to sit at the back with my legs straight out, or in a chair with my leg elevated.

Either way, it was not how I would have liked to have started of my educational journey, but at least I’ll never forget it.