It was just a “Pin”
When I was in elementary school, maybe fourth grade, a girl I knew came to school one day on crutches and had her foot all bandaged up. And when I asked her what had happened, she had said that she had stepped on a pin and had to have surgery to remove it. Now sometimes when you are a kid, the first thing you think of is envy. Why? Because everyone, adults mostly, were doting on her, but after you got past that streak of envy, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She couldn’t play during recess. No jump rope. No climbing on the jungle gym, and definitely no tag. And I knew at that point, I never wanted to get hurt, have surgery, or get sick, just to get attention.
Fast forward two years: I was 12 and my sister was pinning up the hem in a dress. Yep, you guessed it. She spilled the plastic box of pins onto the carpeting and yep, I stepped on one with my left foot. My mom looked at the small pin prick of blood and told me to just pour some peroxide on it and I’d be fine. The thing is, the only pin we found on the floor was a broken one….
Fast Forward 4 more years: My neighbor, Lisa, and I were standing on the curb waiting for my mom to pick us up and I was holding Lisa’s baby. I think he was about 7 or 8 months old at the time. And I stepped off the curb with my right foot and my foot slipped off my sandal and twisted and I went down hard! The baby was okay. He landed right on my lap. Lisa took the baby and asked me what I did and I told her I fell. Now like any good mom, she was making sure the baby was okay, meanwhile I am still on the ground staring at my dislocated knee. OMG! My kneecap is on the side of my leg. I couldn’t bend or straighten my leg and without any thinking I slammed the heel of my hand into my kneecap, popping it back into place. I didn’t go to the doctors, but I wore an ace bandage around it for a couple of days and it was fine. 🙂
Now I know you are wondering what does that have to do with the pin, but I’m getting there.
Let’s fast forward one more time: I am 24 and am out hanging up laundry on the clothesline. I have a beautiful Saint Bernard. His name is Ceaser. Ceaser is a good dog, but when he is in the back yard, he has to be on a chain. You see my neighbors antagonize him. They throw rocks at him and will squirt him with the hose. Just so you know, my neighbors were in their 60’s, and most of the time it was the wife. Now I don’t know why she would do those things. Maybe she was scared of his size and no, “Cujo” hadn’t been written yet. 🙂 Anyway, she came outside while I was hanging the clothes and Ceaser lunged towards the fence and just my luck I was between him and the fence. His chain snagged my ankle and down I went and of course I had to dislocate my knee. Ceaser realized he had knocked me down, so he came over and made sure I was okay. I slammed my kneecap back in place and grabbed onto Ceaser to pull myself up.
After about a week, with my knee still hurting, and my sister scaring me with the story of her brother in law’s knee problems, I decided to go have it checked. In fact, I decided to have both knees checked because the right one had been hurting also.
The doctor x-rayed both knees and my foot, because I had told him it had been hurting also. My knees were fine. No torn ligaments, no arthritis, but my foot…Yep, there it was, that pin that I had stepped on 12 years earlier, but it had broken into 3 pieces and the pieces were no longer cylinder shaped they were now flat and rectangular, and one was working its way into my bone. So needless to say, I had to have them surgically removed.
But you know what? My knees don’t hurt anymore!