I know I've made comments over the past several weeks how weird our weather has been. Yesterday it was about 11 degrees and today it is close to 50, but windy. I had some things to do around the house, but was craving for the sunlight. As I opened my curtains, I saw bikes go by my house. It made me smile to see the kids outside thinking it was spring. We haven't had much snow and all that is left are the small piles that remain in the shade for the entire day. The last bike to go by had two kids on one. I frowned a bit as it brought back memories of riding double. Today kids don't ride double by sitting on the back of a banana seat, or on a book rack over the back tire. They stand on pegs that are on the back wheel. Something created originally for the BMX riders.
I always had a rule for my son. No riding double! I experienced the danger of this first hand years ago. I really don't remember how old I was, maybe 7 or 8. I had gotten a great bike the year before for my birthday. It was hip and fit right in with the times. A nice banana seat and pretty streamers off the handle bars. I made one mistake and left it out overnight and it got stolen. It was found the next day in a tree down the street. Apparently older kids decided to take it for a joy ride. Well, it was ruined and I was devastated. A lesson learned!
Our neighbor at the time felt bad for me and pretty much garbage picked old bikes and created me a new one. It even had my nameplate on it. It wasn't as 'hip' as the first one, it was much bigger and had a bike rack over the back tire. It was shiny blue and would do the trick.
All the kids were out playing and I was enjoying the bike. I don't remember all the details but somehow it ended my sister was driving and I was on the book rack on the back. We had stopped to chat with neighbor kids and I decided to get off at the same time she decided to go. I put my foot on the support for the tire to swing my other leg over the tire and all of sudden there was a pinch. It didn't hurt, I didn't really cry. My sister and I went home and down into the basement. I had powder blue socks on and when we lifted my pant leg the blue was completely red. That is when I cried, my sister tried to talk me into not telling but I would have none of it. I ran upstairs yelling for my mother. She promptly put me in the tub to rinse my foot off. I had a nice flap hanging off my heal. Much further and it would have been gone. She cleaned it out and wrapped it in a towel. I sat in a kitchen chair waiting for her and my dad to get ready to take me to the emergency room. I don't know where my sister went, but I know my older brother sat there telling me they couldn't fix it, they'd have to cut my foot off.
We got to the emergency room and I asked if my mother could stay in the room with me as they fixed me up. I was laying on my belly holding my mothers hand as they cleaned me up and gave me a shot. I felt the pinch of the needle but don't recall if I felt each stitch. When all was said and done they let me roll over and sit up. To my surprise it wasn't my mother holding my hand but a nurse. In those days parents weren't allowed to stay in the room. I had 36 stitches and a huge bandage wrapped around my foot.
Home we went and I had to stay off it for a few days but then when I was able to walk I had to wear my dads slipper. Nothing would fit over the bandage. Several weeks went by and I got to go to the Drs. to have the stitches removed. We were a one car family in that day so my older sister walked with me to the office. It wasn't even a mile away. I got in the room and the doctor started his procedure of removing stitch after stitch. My sister, the now X-ray tech, hid behind the door so she didn't have to see. The walk home was fun, I had a sneaker on and my dad's slipper. I couldn't lift my foot or it would fall off so there I am dragging my foot behind me. My sister of course aggravated as it was taking so long and she had things to do.
So riding double may look cute, but I still frown upon it. To this day I have issues with shoes rubbing on my scar.
7 comments:
That was a nasty experience for you but it seems to have taught you not to do it again. Thirty six stitches is a lot, it's a wonder I didn't have more accidents when I was young on my roller skates! Love your graphic! Jeannette.
my older brother sat there telling me they couldn't fix it, they'd have to cut my foot off.
Boy's! I can see my son saying the same thing to my daughter. lol My brother would have said the same thing too. Nice story. I really enjoyed and laughed as well. Have a great weekend. I am enjoying the sunlight as well. smiles. TerryAnn.
My good ness 36 stitches what a gash ,it doesnt bear thinking about ,Ihave to admit though in the dark and distant past ,I've ridden like that ,fortunately not with the awful consequences you suffered ....excellent gaphics to illustrate the story ,very well told ...........Jan xx
Donna
I liked your story and laughed when your brother said they'd have to cut your foot off. Boys can be so mean at that age. I was touched by the fact that your neighbors scraped together another bicycle for you to have. Thanks for sharing this little piece of your childhood with us.
Sam
Me and my brother would ride double as teenagers, he had a funny game, he would say "Oh no, I'm loosing control"
, and then purposely crash into things liked parked cars, shrubs, tombstones, LOL. I had one serious wreck just riding alone on a gravel road, must of been going to fast down the hill, the front wheel starting shimmying and I crashed! I got all skinned up. Linda
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Ouch, ouch, ouch!! I shall never ride double after reading that but it's funny to read about you having to wear your dad's slipper!!
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