Chapter 4 - Accident Prone?

Once I had reached the age of seven, I felt my Father had some problems with our relationship. Maybe because my diabetes tended my Mother to 'show favoritism' in his eyes--I can't be certain. My Dad is no longer here to ask. Prior to my moving out of the house, first to go live on a dairy farm at age eleven, then when I got my job and then got married, he and I were at odds with each other. Dad always complained that I was getting into stuff and finally decided I was accident prone.

When I was five years old I followed my father into the basement of our house in Georgia Plains, Vermont. Always inquisitive, I wanted to know what the funny looking thing with wheels and belt were. At that instant the electric water pump turned on and my finger was pinched between the roller and belt. Ending up in the hospital, they had to sew the tip of my left middle finger back onto my finger. Later I would have no feeling in the tip of that finger and yet there were two healthy growing fingernails one on top of each other.

I have two older brothers, Jim and Bill, and a younger sister Cheryl. One day I was hit in the head by a tree limb. Jim recollects this differently than I do and I'll use his version.
"I remember a clear day, perhaps windy, and the tree limb just fell. We were all three playing in the yard, and you were the one to get hit. I always assigned that to you being the one accident prone."

Dad's always been glad I've got a hard head.

Dad was a Baptist Minister but his pay wasn't very much in those days and he would take on extra side jobs. We had recently moved from Vermont to Dickenson Center, NY and he was painting a store. They were tearing apart an old barn nearby, and again being inquisitive, I found an upstairs haymow with a swing door in one of the walls. Of course, Dad was hollering at me to get out of the barn. But instead of walking down what was left of the stairs, I jumped out the hay door. When I walked up to Dad, there was a piece of lumber attached to the bottom of my right foot with a nail sticking through the foot. I think the shots they later gave me were worse than the nail.

Sharing a bedroom, another time my brothers and I were jumping back and forth between beds. We had recently hacksawed off the round brass head and footboard framing but, as yet, hadn't capped the ends. You guessed it. Another hospital visit and stitches one-half inch from my right eye. Boy did we all get hollered at for that one.

When I was eight, just before I started fourth grade, we moved to Starrucca, Pennsylvania--real dairy farms and coal furnaces. I found a friend in our coal-delivery man and on occasion was allowed to ride in his 10 ton Mack truck to pick up coal from the coal mines in Carbondale. In the winter after coming back to deliver the coal, we had to pick through the first two inches of ice to get to the coal.

Every year on the last day of school, the students were allowed to ride their bikes to school. Our school was in Thompson, four-and-a-half miles away. I was in sixth grade when I decided I wanted to ride to school. My teacher, knowing about my diabetes, wasn't too sure about the idea but my parents allowed it and I haven't stopped riding distances since. In later years I found inter-town rides mundane-- inter-state rides are much more challenging.

One of the church deacons had a small grove of Christmas trees he raised on the hill behind the parsonage. One winter the kids in town decided to go sleigh riding on that hill. The problem was it had rained during the night and there was a thin layer of ice on the snow. It took nearly thirty minutes getting half way up the hill before we all realized it wasn't worth it and started coming back down. No way was I going to walk. Getting on my sled I started down the hill. I found out real quick, I couldn't steer. Trying to negotiate a turn my legs came off the sled and promptly slammed into one of the Christmas trees. Guess who won that battle. My cast started chest high and went down both legs, even covering most of my feet. I can't remember Dad ever being so mad. Maybe because he was actually charged for the Christmas tree.

You'll have to make your own decision as to whether you think I'm accident prone or not. But throughout all of my hospital stays or immobility, I never had a problem with my diabetes. Taking more insulinˆ when I was inactive or even when I was sick became second nature. As my experience with diabetes increased so did my will-power to be in control of it. Doctors have remarked on numerous occasions as to how fast and well I had healed without any infections. After a while, I no longer became elated with this kind of comment but more or less expected it of myself. I remembered my comment to Mom before leaving the training session at the Joslin Clinic, "I'll handle it".

Just prior to getting married my Dad and I got close again. The reasons we gave each other for our antagonism are too personal to go into. But for the next several years our relationship grew. I was the first sibling to get married and Joann and I were married in her church by my father. We have pictures of Dad holding his first grandchild, Noel. Just after our second child, Krista, was born, Dad went to live with Jesus Christ.

No matter what you've decided about my being accident prone, I've filled my life with all sorts of exciting things. I've ridden horses, driven tractors, been snow mobiling over 80 miles per hour, taken interstate bicycle rides, kayaked on class 4 rivers, descended Mt. Monadnock in New Hampshire with full backpack, even ascended the Washington Monument on crutches. Besides normal childhood diseases I've been diagnosed with diabetes (age 6), had appendicitis (age 17), went through seven laser treaments for retinopathy (age 28), double bypass open heart surgery (age 51) and kidney stones (age 52 & 53).

I just can't wait to see what happens next.

Isaiah 30:20,21-KJV Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it."