Better To Have Worn a Body Cast
Okay, so I had to wear a body cast for nine months. While it wasn't the dream of a lifetime, it was most definitely a learning experience. I tried to remember how much character I was building every time someone bounced a racquet ball off my chest or my best friend pounded on my back to carry out a not-so-funny knock-knock joke. And how can I forget falling over backwards in my chair during a home economics class? When I couldn't get up without assistance, I became the best joke in high school. But somehow I survived the playful taunts of my friends, while learning to treasure them. In fact, I don't remember much from my sophomore year in high school except the funny incidents involving my cast.
Okay, so I had to wear a body cast for nine months. While it wasn't the dream of a lifetime, it was most definitely a learning experience. I tried to remember how much character I was building every time someone bounced a racquet ball off my chest or my best friend pounded on my back to carry out a not-so-funny knock-knock joke. And how can I forget falling over backwards in my chair during a home economics class? When I couldn't get up without assistance, I became the best joke in high school. But somehow I survived the playful taunts of my friends, while learning to treasure them. In fact, I don't remember much from my sophomore year in high school except the funny incidents involving my cast.
When I say, "Body cast," I am referring to a plaster of paris cast extending high up under my arms and the top of my chest near my neck to just below my hip bones, leaving enough room for leg mobility. Oh, and I can't descriptively omit the round hole right in the middle for stomach expansion and contraction. I looked like the newest super hero. It was the only time I could actually get by my father without a shirt and not have him pass out. He also didn't mind my going to the beach, since wearing a skimpy bathing suit was an impossibility. Any bathing suit was out of the question, for that matter.
My mother, on the other hand, did have reason to worry. I tended to be a bit too daring. Anyone who knows what happens to plaster when soaked in water would appreciate my mother's qualm as she watched me bounce up and down on a diving board over 8 ft. of water. Now as a parent, I, too, sympathize with her.
The summer that year was memorable for more than one reason. My trip to Florida with a youth choir, consisting of twenty-six teenagers and five very brave adults, during three of the hottest days of the year remains etched in my mind as one of those reasons. While in Florida, we visited Walt Disney World. I can't blame thirty of the thirty-one travelers for not wanting to enjoy the park with me, the Living Stiff. However, I was able to maneuver my way into the middle of a group of four, making two couples and a sore thumb. Needless to say, they lost me "by accident" at one of the rides. Due to my confined status, I waited to ride the carousel, while they lined up for the roller coaster. Afterwards, we were to meet back at a specific location. I was there. I'm still waiting for them.
After walking and riding alone for an hour, I caught up with a few adults from the larger group. It was lunch time. They ate. I passed out. When I awoke, I was being wheeled down the middle of Main Street, U.S.A., heading up a parade of Disney characters. My thought: "Should I wave and pretend that I'm employed by Disney?" I doubted if anyone would have noticed. Well, maybe they might have suspected something was amiss; after all, my plaster costume wasn't the best. My friends took pictures of me with Goofy, Pluto, Mickey, and the Infirmary Sign just to prove even to me it really happened.
Another reason for remembering that summer was my vacation with Dad. Let me politely say that he is a "would be" Hollywood director. He tried to reenact the opening to the movie Chariots of Fire - the scene where the men are running in the ocean surf. Let's see: heat, water; running. Three things vital for the effective scene. Three things taboo for me. While everyone was wearing all-but- too revealing swimsuits, I was fully dressed. I am sure I didn't look obvious on the beach! The running? Well, we pretended we were moving in slow motion. In thirteen years, I haven't been able to bring myself to watch the film. My sisters and brothers, however, have had no problem filling me in on what I've missed. Once again, I survived.
Finally came "The Backscratcher Incident," to which my two first cousins (both boys who loved to tease; now men who love to remind) were witness. Because I wore the cast for nine months, there were times when my skin itched so badly I could hardly stand it. In order to ease my plight, I would suck in my stomach and stick a backscratcher in the hole of my cast. While visiting my cousins, I chose to relieve my itching in this way. In doing so, the hand of the backscratcher broke off in the back of my cast. My uncle had to use pliers to manipulate the hand out. It was not an easy task. On the other hand (pardon the pun), it was not as difficult as living down the incident. What did I learn? Backscratchers aren't an abundant commodity. I spent days trying to find a new one.
As I look back at being 15 years old and having to carry that cumbersome weight around on my body, I am thankful for the patience taught by my circumstance. While I was unable to ride Space Mountain at Walt Disney World, as an adult, life for me has been a constant roller coaster ride. And I am better, to have worn a body cast. ©1996 FCE
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