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The Evils of a Broken Bone

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Introduction

Jessica Greenwood Ms. Hemann APLAC Period 6 28 September 2007 The Evils of a Broken Bone Finally, the wait was over. Finally, after nine never-ending weeks, I could climb, swim, play, and once again partake in the numerous activities that fill the lives of six-year-old girls. The hard, bright orange constraint around my arm had been weighing down my life, and keeping me from being the carefree child that I knew should be. Finally, as I sat in the back seat of the car headed towards the doctor's office, looking out the window at the soft snow, I knew this weight would be removed once and for all. I wondered what it would feel like to move my arm again, and I smiled at the thought of such freedom. I hadn't been so free since that dreadful day nine weeks ago. Mrs. Thompson had just dismissed us for recess, and I sprinted through the doorway into the sunlight. The world was wonderfully bright with fall colors, and I ran out to the playground with the leaves crunching beneath my feet. I looked around the playground, trying to decide where I would play that day. ...read more.

Middle

The woodchips below became more defined as they grew nearer and nearer, and I knew I would soon come into contact with them. I tried to break my fall with my arms, and when I hit the ground, I heard a loud crack as a sharp pain shot through my right arm. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at my arm. My wrist didn't look quite straight and I couldn't move it. Cradling my hurt arm with my healthy one, I walked over to the teacher who was nearby. I was determined to be a big girl, and, trying not to cry, I told her what had happened. She immediately helped me inside to the nurse's office. That fifty yards to the nurse seemed like a thousand miles, and each step I took was more painful than the last. I didn't understand what was happening. Why did it hurt my arm to put weight on my legs? As I reached the doorway to go inside, I sadly glanced over my shoulder to take one last look at my beloved playground. Suddenly it didn't look as inviting as it always had. ...read more.

Conclusion

The pain was unbearable, and this time I couldn't keep back the tears. I couldn't understand that the doctor was only trying to help me, and I was angry with him for prolonging my suffering instead of ending it. The worst was over... at least as far as physical pain. I got my cast and was on the road to recovery, but the majority of the pain came after my arm stopped hurting. I was normally such a bright, happy, little girl; but with a broken arm I was constantly feeling sorry for myself. I kept asking God why I was the one who had to go through this. Why did I have to sit at home while my dad took my sister to the indoor pool? Why did I have to sit and watch while my friends played softball? I soon felt like my life and my freedom had been ripped away from me as soon as I heard that crack on the playground. This could never happen again. Nine weeks later, sitting in that waiting room, I thought to myself. My cast would be off in just a couple of minutes, and I would have my freedom back. But I couldn't abuse that freedom. I would always be more careful now; I would never again subject myself to the evils of a broken bone. Greenwood 1 ...read more.

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