One of Many

I have broken or fractured about 13 bones in my lifetime, though I cannot remember the experience for all of them. One of the earliest occurred while I was in the 4th grade attending Thomas Ford Elementary School in Reading, PA. It was shortly after my parents had separated for good. Dad had taken us to a pavilion where he and mom had often visited during their courtship. I remember that that time was especially difficult for dad as he began to realize that the family would never be the same. I don't remember the pavilion's exact location, but it was on one of the mountains surrounding Reading. We could see out over the city, and it was easy to see why this was a favorite spot for them at that time in their lives.

On this particular day we had finished our visit and were on our way back to the car. Being somewhat competitive even as a child, I challenged my siblings to a race down the rocky path that led back to the car. Unfortunately, my little legs couldn't quite keep up with the heart that spurred them on and I lost my footing, tumbling forward on to the rocks. Boy did that hurt! Dad helped me up, wiping away my tears, and we headed to his house on Kerr Road in Jacksonwald. I don't know which hurt worse - my shoulder or my ego!

When we arrived dad told me to lay down in his bed. No matter how I tried I couldn't get comfortable or find a painless position, so he took me to the hospital (either St. Joseph's or Community General - I don't remember which). The diagnosis? I had broken my collarbone! I can still remember wearing that harness to Mrs. Gable's class. It felt like my shoulders were hunched up like Quazimoto! And I remember the relief when the harness was finally removed some weeks later. It was a strange feeling, actually. It felt like my arms were barely attached as they slumped down my sides. Little did we know at the time, but this would not be the last time my parents and I would have a misadventure like this!