Heather Tales #2

**Disaster Week**

I'm not sure of the order of these events except for the last one, but I have a pretty good idea. Just don't expect it to hold up in court ;-)

Accident #1
At the first house I lived in as a child, we had a big cement step to get into the back door. We also had a rather large frame along the floor for the bottom of the door. This was partially made of metal. One day when coming in the back door, in all my grace, I tripped on the step and fell face first. I was just tall enough for my forehead to hit smack dab on the metal door frame. I split my head open, accompanied with a lovely grape sized knot and 2 black eyes.

Accident #2
My Mom's parents lived next door to us and I happened to be over there at their house playing in my Mime's room. I can't remember what it was I picked up, but it was something metal. Being the curious child I was, I decided I wanted to stick it into the plug outlet to see what would happen. You're thinking "Oh Shit!" right? Yeah, you should be. I electrocuted myself. Instantly my whole arm was black. Ambulance is called, obviously, and my Mom calls my Dad at work too. She tells him I electrocuted myself and that my whole arm is burnt black all the while screaming hystrically. (Remember this is what has been relayed to me) Dad rushes home. The paramedics have me all taken care of. They have cleaned off my arm that was actually covered in black soot (I'm guessing that's what it was. I don't know what else to describe it as). Turns out, only the tip of my finger got the damaged.

Accident #3
My Mom decided to take us to visit her cousin and her cousin's kids to go swimming. We get to the pool and are gettting ready to go swimming. At this age, I'm still using the little arm floaties. My oldest cousin, Dawn, is the one who was helping me get them on. Being a teenager at the time, she decided to make it easier on herself and blow them up first, then put them on me. As she is trying to force the floatie onto my right arm, she is twisting and pulling on my arm as well as the floatie. Well.........I was what they used to call 'double jointed' (not really sure what that even really means other than I was really flexible). It was very easy to pop my arms out of the joint at that age. And......that's exactly what she did. I, of coarse, started screaming bloody murder from the pain. My mom throws me in the car and rushes me to the emergency room. They get me into a room and I'm on the bed still screaming in pain. The doctors are refusing to set my arm until they speak with my mom. Now remember, I have a knot with a cut on my forehead, 2 black eyes, a burnt finger, and now an arm out of socket. What do you think the doctors were thinking??? Yep, they thought my mom was beating the hell out of me. So while they are questioning her about child abuse, I'm screaming in pain. She finally screams at them to 'Please set her arm then I will tell you whatever you want to know!"


Need I say more? My Dad's nickname for me growing up was 'Knothead' because I was always falling or running into something and getting a big goose egg on my head.