A Fragment of Autobiography

English Course Work, A fragment of a Autobiography, 24/09/01, Aaron Horn Page of

It had been a normal day for me. It was a holiday and I had just been for a bike ride with my dad and my sister. We decided to stop at the park. It was a hot day with not a cloud in site, the air was humid and I was squinting in the sun. My first stop at the play park was the swing and as I was still quite small I could not reach the floor to give my self instant motion; I asked my dad if he would push me. He did and I was soon sawing through he sky, finally I got bored and my head was hurting and so I asked my dad to stop. I was pushed once more and I tired to slow my self down but could not, instead I caught my foot and went flying onto the fake grass and then onto the hard concrete. I had landed on my right wrist and then skidded along the ground grazing my leg before finally hitting my head. I came to a stop sat up and instantly began crying and screaming as the pain from my arm shot up into my brain. I started to sweat and cry even more. An onlooker gave me a drink and my dad made a sling with his tee shirt.

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We were quite a distance from the safety and comfort of home where I wanted to be. The only way home was by foot and so I had to walk. With my dad and sister pushing the bikes and me just crying and hobbling we set off. Usually the walk would take 5-10 minutes but soon by time I had reached the last stretch 20 minutes had passed. I was pale and needed to stop I was carried the last 100m or so. We finally arrived home and I was sat on the sofa while my dad said he was going to call an ambulance. I was beginning to feel dizzy; by now my crying had reduced to a snivel while I sat there looking at my arm rested on a pillow. Soon enough a man dressed in green came in and I was given a sling and helped to my feet, we walked out to the ambulance while neighbours looked and enquired.

“Is he gonna be alright?” said the person next door, my dad not quite sure himself just replied

“Yeah I’m sure he will”.

As I began to think about the seriousness of going to hospital the paramedic said

“You have a nasty breakage of your wrist there Aaron”. Not knowing what to say I just nodded while the paramedic assured me he was going to try not to hurt me but he was going to need to check my reactions and heartbeat. A small clip was connected to my index finger and it started to glow red when the machine was turned on. “All seems normal” the paramedic said to me after all was complete. During the journey it was made sure that I did not fall a sleep, as this could be dangerous.

After about 30 minutes we arrived at Weston Super Mare General Hospital and I was taken to the A&E department and put in a cubical. About an hour later my mum had returned from her shopping trip and read the note my dad left and came to the hospital. She walked in and looked at my dad and sister and then me and said “What have you done now?” assuming I had only sprained my wrist. I sat there bored and thirsty when finally a doctor walked in and done some checks on my arm and said it was time for me to go to X-ray. I was ferried to X-ray in a wheel chair, when I went in I was on my own. The nurse sat me on a bed and asked me to hold a plate against the back of my aching wrist as she manoeuvred a big nozzle shaped thing to the other side of my wrist. With that she walked off and I heard a click followed by a buzz and then the machines extraction fan come into operation.

After a transfer to the other side of the hospital I was sat in the Children’s ward watching CBBC on the old TV. The doctor was also there talking to my mum. I was told “You have two bones in your wrist and one of them is broke and the other has come out of line”. He then showed me what he meant with two of his fingers, “Now to cure this you will require an general anaesthetic and some minor surgery”. I looked on as he produced X-rays onto the light box and went into more detail with my mum. At this point my dad and sister had gone home to get some food and I was sat there until about five when I was finally wheeled to surgery. I was told that I require an injection, as I already had a needle in my left arm where I had earlier received pain killers I thought that would be used, but it wasn’t and I was subject to more injections as they tried to find a vein. Finally I was given a milky injection and as the surgeon was talking to me I suddenly felt sleepy, I was just nodding. The next thing I knew I had blinked and was sat in recovery and my wrist had a white cast on it. I walked back to the ward feeling much better. I was finally allowed to get a drink and some food and I spent the night in the hospital ward full of younger children until I was finally released.

Well I started back at school and I was told how good my writing was considering I had an inch thick cast on my wrist but after 6 weeks it was removed by a big scary electric saw and I regained the strength in my right wrist. I didn’t like swings for a little while for fear that my just repaired arm would get broken again and the doctors would tell me off. That was soon phased out and I went back to playing on swings but I can never relax and let down my guard on a swing for a long time.