PART A

The soft thud of the shoe catching against the drain, that’s all I heard before I found myself falling forwards toward the solid brick wall in front of me. Reflexively, I stretched out my right arm, attempting to steady myself so that I wouldn’t collide face first with the wall. A resounding crack had pierced the tranquil silence then, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, feeling a numbing pain bloom across the length of my right arm. Looking down to examine the injury, all that registered was the fact that my arm was bent at a horribly peculiar angle. Somehow though, this didn’t bother me very much; I felt dizzy and lightheaded, very much detached from the present situation.

Distantly, I was aware of a teacher coaxing me onto a stretcher and for some unknown reason I kept finding layers of blankets being piled onto me. The notion at the time seemed quite ridiculous as I was sweating buckets, but I was grateful as a few minutes later, a rather cold clammy feeling began to settle over me. My arm felt like a big swollen mess and my attempts to move it proved quite fruitless. However, I did find that control over my fingers hadn’t been lost and I could wiggle them perfectly well. The pain in my arm had reduced to a dull ache now and I lay still, feeling tendrils of coldness creeping up my arm, a result of the icepack that had been applied without my noticing. 

One minute I was being lulled by an indistinct buzz of conversation around me, and the next, I was lying flat on a hospital bed, staring up at the whitewashed walls of the hospital. My quiet observation of the surroundings however, was promptly disrupted by the arrival of a nurse, who briskly explained that I would be given medicine to help my arm feel better. Before any feelings of apprehension could arise, the sharp stinging sensation of a needle piercing into the back of my right hand told me it had already been done. Curiously, I noted that the thing inserted in my hand was connected to a plastic bag and suspended above me on some kind of pole. The immediate relief in my arm however, effectively wiped away any remaining doubts.

Afterwards, I was promptly taken to get a picture taken of my arm and left to rest in another room. By then, the situation began to feel much less surreal and I started to feel impatient for an explanation. It wasn’t until a few hours later however, that a woman finally entered the room, introducing herself as Doctor Heather Ross. Noting the angry rumbling of my stomach, she smiled bemusedly down at me, “I know you’re hungry, but we have to perform a surgery on your right forearm as both the bones inside are broken. That’s why we had to make sure your stomach was empty.” Following that, I found myself being wheeled across a dimly lit corridor into the operating room. As if noticing my fear, someone patted me reassuringly before attaching a bag of fluid to the syringe inserted into the back of my right hand. Apparently, it would help me sleep through the surgery. A wave of drowsiness hit me then, and I was plunged into inky darkness.    

I groggily opened my eyes to the sight of Doctor Ross chatting animatedly with my parents about something; they didn’t seem to notice that I was awake. I tried feebly to raise my head, bringing on a bout of dizziness. Giving up, I lay back down and tried to listen in on their conversation instead. What I garnered from listening was that during my operation, Doctor Ross made a few cuts along my arm, inserting a metal rod to help steady the two bones in my forearm during healing.  Shuddering inwardly from just thinking about it, I glanced quickly to my injured arm, noting it was encased by a hard white material spanning from the knuckles of my hands to my upper arm. Having finally noticed that I was no longer asleep, Doctor Ross turned toward me then, and commenced in giving me a detailed explanation regarding the care of my arm. Wiggle your fingers. Rest your arms in a sling or on pillows when lying down during the first five days. Keep your arm away from water. Those were the main instructions I think. For the next few days however, my attention was focused more towards staying in bed all day long and finding the TV channel I wanted to watch. I have to say, breaking an arm does have its perks.