The road to criphood started 52 winters ago when my mother let me go skating on our neighbor's back yard rink. That was the start of most of the troubles. She had to wait every day until the neighbor's kids came home from school for them to get me off the ice. I refused to get off and she had no way to get me off. That was the beginning of my passionate love for skating. I spent every minute I could on the ice and at some point actually learned how to skate properly. Not long after Bowdoin College built their hockey rink, I became an instructor at the figure skating school at around 12 years of age. One of my *stay in shape* exercises was to run up and down the bleachers in the rink. Then the college obligingly built a 16 story building practically across the street from my house, so I had 16 flights of stairs to run up and down. The stair running AND the skating were the eventual reason for my knees to be in the shape they are today-ruined. My left collar bone got destroyed by a katyusha rocket in 1992 and because of an idiot doctor at the local hospital, I ended up losing 2 or so millimeters off the end of it and being introduced to the concept of constant pain. Then, in 1998, I had a stroke which effectively shut down the left side of my body and finished off my right knee completely. It doesn't work any more and is a constant pain. My bladder is shot too, and I am thankful daily for my handy dandy anti pee pills. Add that all up and what you get is a degenerating purple crip in a wheelchair. Did I mention all the damage in my spinal column? There are several bulging on the verge of bursting disk's and signs of degeneration and another word I just forgot. No matter, I'm a mess. And that's the short version. It could have been much worse, and I *am* grateful that it wasn't. I CAN still walk a few steps, but not without major pain.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
HOW I GOT GIMPED
After a quick search in the archives, I realized that I just assumed that anyone who reads this blog knows how I got gimped! Those who *do* know, are invited to skip this post.
The road to criphood started 52 winters ago when my mother let me go skating on our neighbor's back yard rink. That was the start of most of the troubles. She had to wait every day until the neighbor's kids came home from school for them to get me off the ice. I refused to get off and she had no way to get me off. That was the beginning of my passionate love for skating. I spent every minute I could on the ice and at some point actually learned how to skate properly. Not long after Bowdoin College built their hockey rink, I became an instructor at the figure skating school at around 12 years of age. One of my *stay in shape* exercises was to run up and down the bleachers in the rink. Then the college obligingly built a 16 story building practically across the street from my house, so I had 16 flights of stairs to run up and down. The stair running AND the skating were the eventual reason for my knees to be in the shape they are today-ruined. My left collar bone got destroyed by a katyusha rocket in 1992 and because of an idiot doctor at the local hospital, I ended up losing 2 or so millimeters off the end of it and being introduced to the concept of constant pain. Then, in 1998, I had a stroke which effectively shut down the left side of my body and finished off my right knee completely. It doesn't work any more and is a constant pain. My bladder is shot too, and I am thankful daily for my handy dandy anti pee pills. Add that all up and what you get is a degenerating purple crip in a wheelchair. Did I mention all the damage in my spinal column? There are several bulging on the verge of bursting disk's and signs of degeneration and another word I just forgot. No matter, I'm a mess. And that's the short version. It could have been much worse, and I *am* grateful that it wasn't. I CAN still walk a few steps, but not without major pain. It's slowed me down, but not stopped me.
The road to criphood started 52 winters ago when my mother let me go skating on our neighbor's back yard rink. That was the start of most of the troubles. She had to wait every day until the neighbor's kids came home from school for them to get me off the ice. I refused to get off and she had no way to get me off. That was the beginning of my passionate love for skating. I spent every minute I could on the ice and at some point actually learned how to skate properly. Not long after Bowdoin College built their hockey rink, I became an instructor at the figure skating school at around 12 years of age. One of my *stay in shape* exercises was to run up and down the bleachers in the rink. Then the college obligingly built a 16 story building practically across the street from my house, so I had 16 flights of stairs to run up and down. The stair running AND the skating were the eventual reason for my knees to be in the shape they are today-ruined. My left collar bone got destroyed by a katyusha rocket in 1992 and because of an idiot doctor at the local hospital, I ended up losing 2 or so millimeters off the end of it and being introduced to the concept of constant pain. Then, in 1998, I had a stroke which effectively shut down the left side of my body and finished off my right knee completely. It doesn't work any more and is a constant pain. My bladder is shot too, and I am thankful daily for my handy dandy anti pee pills. Add that all up and what you get is a degenerating purple crip in a wheelchair. Did I mention all the damage in my spinal column? There are several bulging on the verge of bursting disk's and signs of degeneration and another word I just forgot. No matter, I'm a mess. And that's the short version. It could have been much worse, and I *am* grateful that it wasn't. I CAN still walk a few steps, but not without major pain.
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