TheBanyanTree: Knocked out?

[Glo~ee]

Scott's story about nearly knocking himself unconscious reminded me of
my childhood.  For a very long time I thought everybody had
experienced being knocked out.  I've found that it's not so.  Still,
there were three times that it happened to me.

Our neighborhood had a triangular shaped park where we played
basketball in the summer and thanks to the firemen, we had an ice
skating rink in the winter.  I loved ice skating and would skate
everyday until my toes couldn't take it anymore.  I'd hobble home and
sit on top of the heat register to warm my feet for the next round.
Often, the bigger kids would start playing Crack the Whip.  My
brothers loved that nonsense.  One day I wanted to play too and my
older brother said, "Get back!  Don't grab that!  No!".  Who listens
to big brothers anyway?  I grabbed the last guy's coat and that's the
last thing I remember as far as Crack the Whip goes.  Apparently I was
carried home by one of the older brothers and eventually woke up.  My
mother was highly upset.  I was just confused.

The next time, I was riding a neighbor's bike around their yard.  I
rode from the backyard to the front yard, which was raised and held in
place by a 4' stone wall.  I was going too fast to make the turn and
quickly discovered that the bike didn't have brakes.  I went over the
wall and must've landed on my head.  I really don't know, as I don't
remember anything beyond realizing the bike didn't have brakes and
then waking up at home with my mother being highly upset.

The third time nearly killed me, or so I was told.  I remember my
friend Debbie and I running from some boys.  Boys still had cooties
then, I reckon.  I had a brilliant idea.  We could go hide in my
brother's camp!  It was located in the rafters of the garage.  There
was a piece of plywood placed over the rafters and we only needed to
get the ladder moved over there to climb on up.  Easy.  Piece of cake.
 I got up there just fine and stood there waiting for Debbie.  She got
up the ladder okay, but tripped and fell when trying to get onto the
plywood.  When she fell, she hit my legs with enough force to push me
over the edge.  I fell backwards and still remember seeing the garage
wall on the way down.  I was unconscious and bleeding from the head.
Debbie ran home and so did the boys.  They all lived three and four
blocks away.  Thankfully, Debbie told her mother about me and they
came to share the news with my mother.  I woke up sitting in a kitchen
chair looking at my highly upset mother.  She was dabbing my head with
a very bloody washcloth and talking about taking me to the hospital.
Dad thought I just needed a band-aid.  I agreed with him, but that
didn't matter.  Off to the hospital Mom and I went, where we
discovered that I had a concussion, a blood clot they feared would go
to my brain due to the hole in my forehead the size of a quarter.  I
also had two black eyes and a nice long scrape along my jawline.
After x-rays and a slight surgical procedure to the head, they wrapped
my whole head, put a harness on me for the broken collarbone, and
found me a room.  I was there for five days and out of school for
another week after that.

It was during that last time that I discovered death was nothing to
fear.  I don't know why, but wonder if it's because they kept telling
me I could have died and they seemed horrified when they said so.  I
remember thinking, well at least now I know that death doesn't hurt.
The whole world looked different to me after that experience.

Thankfully, I must've also learned how to avoid landing on one's head!

Gloria