Stories from my childhood

I should start off by saying that I was and still am quite clumsy. Let’s change that to very clumsy. I have no idea why, I was just born like that. I used to always have bruises on my legs and I still do (from bumping against my bed and, occasionally, door frames). Matter of factly, I have plenty of scars on my knees to prove that I was wild.

Besides the very frequent stumbles and falls, the first big event in my life regarding my health was fracturing my right ankle. I was playing in front of the apartment building my grandparents used to live in and I tripped over a rock. A couple of days after that I remember seeing that rock again and looking at it with a lot of anger, for a 3 or 4 year old. Of course my ankle was put in a cast and I was supposed to enjoy bed rest. That did not happen since I would rather walk on one foot that stay in bed. I also happen to have some photos from a recital I did and you can clearly see the cast under my dress.


Look at that angelic face.

Since I could not stay still, I fractured my right ankle a second time and if I estimated correctly, I was in second grade. How did that happen, you might ask? Well, I was chasing after a boy, do not ask other questions, and I happened to trip on the only crack on the floor in the whole school. You can understand how lucky I have been over the years.

Next, I had pneumonia. That was honestly a pain. Since I did not want to stay in the hospital, grandma and I had to go every morning and evening for 30 days at the hospital to get my treatment injected. I did, however, manage to get some needle-less syringes to play with at home.

I, of course, also had Chickenpox but that was not as bad as I thought since I did not feel the need to scratch that much. I do still have one scar, a reminder of the first blister on my chest, which I thought was a mosquito bite. One problem that it brought was that I missed some of my Romanian classes and failed to understand the various tenses.

This next event is the one I am proud of. Yes, it is weird, but bear with me. My uncle, my cousin and I were at the park one day. Take into consideration that my cousin is quite younger than me and was at this stage a toddler. There was another girl that was playing on the swing; I should add that the swing was made of steel. Apparently, my cousin left her water bottle under said swing and she went to get it, obviously not understating the danger. I did, however, understand and I went and pushed my cousin out of the way and in that instant the swing hit me full force right where the hairline meets the forehead, in the middle. I blacked out for a couple of seconds and next thing I know, my uncle props me up on a bench and cleans my wound. I do not remember crying at this point, I was just in shock. He then took me to my family doctor which was nearby and I remember sitting in the waiting room with a gauze on my head worrying that I might have a big hole on my forehead. I remember desperately wanting to look in a mirror (typical me : insert hair flip emoji). The doctor then stitched me up without anaesthesia, since I was afraid of needles and that was the last thing I wanted. The result of all of that is 1. I look weird with a middle part and 2. I have a small scar a centimetre behind my hairline where hair does not grow, but it is barely visible. I am very proud of how my instincts acted that day.

Since then nothing major happened, except the occasional wrist or ankle sprain. I hope I kept you entertained by showing you the a part of clumsy/heroic me.




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