Have You Ever Had An X-Ray?

Today is the 115th anniversary of the X-ray, did ya know? Did ya know I have not one but two folders full of this lovely invention? True, I do, more is better isn’t it? Oh what stories these films could tell, have you had x-rays?

Looking back I sometimes wonder why I am not now a human glow stick? It is sad when one can assume an x-ray position with no outside coaching or instructions. So why have I had so many? What stories could these films tell?

A tomboy by birth I broke my first bone somewhere between the ages of 4 and 6. It was my right arm, fell off a fence playing cowboys and Indians a game I think all girls play, right?

Went all day, playing and riding rides at the local amusement park, then my mother noticed me not using the arm. It was broke, my first.

Second, or second through sixth, completely crushed my right foot. Racing for shotgun and winning, slammed the truck door on it. Wore that cast out in two days playing kickball. Do you know how far you can kick a rubber ball with 20 pounds of plaster on your foot?

Brief brake in the bone braking and then six years later, right arm again. Just slid in home, someone helped me up and, poof broke. Not to curtail my ball playing I finished the season with 5 pounds of plaster on my arm.

My softball career led to braking about every rib and finger I have, not to mention my nose twice. First time I broke my nose I really have no memory of. I remember getting it re-broke the next day and painfully learning the difference between putting dogs and people to sleep, and the second time?

I learned never to drink peppermint schnapps and play snowball. Yes I watched that ball all the way in, right into my nose!

There actually was a third time but the only lesson there was trees do not move. Trees do not care that you drive a 66’ Chevy and will gobble up your entire front end.

Then you have all those films that said, “Yes you used your head.” Like the time I slid into home only to be forcefully tagged out by a woman 100 pounds my senior.  She looked like a nice giant. Or like the time I dove head first into a fence catching a foul ball.

Someone was supposed to yell, “Fence” but I swear I did not hear a thing, except the ringing in my ears. Funny that fence pole still has a dent in it, so there take that.

Ms Twister’s made contributions. While chasing hot air balloons in the back of her truck I managed to hit my head enough to damaged all the muscles in my head, neck and back. Lost an entire week of my life for that one. Weird, I only remember getting up once to go to the bathroom.

Then there was the time she insisted she knew the way while hiking, not! And while taking a break from our hours of endless rambling I slipped fell on rocks in a creek and broke my collarbone. Took until the next morning to feel it, did not matter. I still had to carry not only my pack but also hers and help with our trekking pals. They were worn out from Ms Twister knowing the way.

Now you see why I wonder why I don’t glow in the dark and believe me I just hit the high points. Seems logical someone with this sort of history in radiation should glow. Oh well, my tribute to the anniversary of the x-ray.

Peace….

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