A Childhood Hero and a Trip to the Hospital

When I was 7 or 8 years old, I had several heros which I loved to pretend to be. One was Batman and I actually had the big bulky blue helmet and a cape to pretend with. The other was , the legendary king of the jungle. There really wasn't much out there for a girl to look up to in the 1960s. You could be a mom and homemaker; a nurse; a secretary; a teacher; and if you were pretty an airline stewardess. Not that there is anything wrong with any of those, because they are fantastic and rewarding. It's just, well, women didn't go swinging through the jungle saving people, or drive the Batmobile and save people. Actually in the 1960s women were the ones usually being saved by the male heroes. But this isn't about the role of women. I could really go on and on about that. No, this is about one day when I was a child and imagining to be Tarzon. Yep, that day was great! It was spring time and it was really nice outside. Mom was in the farmhouse and Dad was working on a tractor. My brother and sister were gone for the time somewhere and I was alone just having a great time playing. I was yelling the Tarzan cry and grabbing hold of my rope swing. I'd swing on it, let go and start wrestling with my dog, Lady who had become a lion in my imagination. What a great day! The huge lilac bush near the maple tree which held my swing was the jungle undergrowth where I would hide in and watch the imaginary villians! I was incredibly brave and heroic saving people from these evil people! Then, I had a brilliant idea. Dad was in the horse barn and there was a hay loft in the back part of that barn. Yep, and a rope to swing on! My imagination flew and there I was swinging on the rope and dropping into the hay! Talk about fun! The bad guys were really dropping as I wrestled my way in the river (er, hay) taking on aligators, crocodiles, and bad men! It was so much fun! Another idea came into my head...if I tied the rope around my wrist, I would be able to swing back to where I started from. Now, Dad had checked on me several times and saw that I was doing okay. I wasn't doing much, just swinging on the rope and falling into the hay...His back was turned when I tied the rope around my right wrist. "This was going to be great! I wouldn't let go and drop into the hay, instead I would swing right back. Here goes, 1, 2 3, SWING! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!... Poor Dad, I must have givn him a heart attack! Yep, I swung out, and I swung back, but my body was used to falling and it did.....but I was still attached to the rope. I still remember the pain which ripped through my arm and the sound of my voice going from Tarzan's cry to a scream. Dad flew into where I was and grabbed hold of me as I was dangling trying to get my wrist free. He untied it and carried me up to the house. Mom had no idea what was going on, but the next thing I knew; they were putting me into the car and off to Cortland Memorial Hospital we went. Me, I was sobbing from the pain and Mom was holding me. The hospital is a blur of fragmented memories, pictures of the waiting room, getting xrays done and screaming from the positions my arm was put into, and finally, receiving the news. It wasn't broken, but it would have been better if it had been. Nope, not broken...instead the ligaments and muscles had been ripped from their positions. Real good, kiddo! The one nice thing...I got to wear a sling! Well, it was cool to a kid, although, there was a lot of pain. Plus, I got to sleep downstairs on the sofa in the living room! Okay, I'm trying to make it sound better than it was. The truth is it hurt like hell! Believe me, I still remember that pain well! It took awhile for the arm to heal. Sad thing is, my doing this weakened my right arm a great deal. Not that it mattered much, I'm left-handed, but it did do damage that I still suffer from today. Yeah, rotor-cuff problems in my right shoulder and a weakended arm. Nice arthritis in there as well. So is there really any bright spot in this? Yepper! I learned not to do anything stupid like that again! The best thing is that I didn't get the brilliant idea to tie the rope around my neck! Wow, that would have been really bad.... So, did I stop playing Tarzan? Nope, I just played him smarter and wiser. After all he was still my hero and I loved him, but I never tied anything around my arm again, cause I never wanted to go back to the hospital again or have that type of pain again. Nope, instead I did other stupid things, but that's another tale for another day!