I was around 5 when I broke my ankle. I had walked around on it for a few days before anyone noticed that I was favoring that ankle. does it hurt? no, not really, just doesn't seem to work the way it used to. I had, funnily enough, tripped over a massive snapping turtle's shell that my grandpa had caught and had thrown it out in the field, the dog brought it back home. my mom finally took me to the doctor after noticing a bit of swelling. it was definitely broken, lol, and the more they moved it around and looked at it the more I giggled! it didn't hurt, it tickled and just didn't work right. left in a cast for the next however many weeks.
I wasn't scared of the saw they use to cut those things off, I found those intriguing too and thought I should have gotten to take it home. I had the cast off for about two weeks before I was playing at my aunt's farm and tripped over a roll of carpet she was about to have hauled to the upper level. I didn't say a word but my cousin saw me fall. back to the doctor. it's broken again! this only happened one more time after this - I was hauling ass on my sweet purple big wheel and turned my ankle the wrong way and broke it again. it still didn't hurt.
I remember being an overly sensitive and emotional child. I spent a lot of time in the guidance counselors office with his stupid puppets while he was playing pocket pool. I would cry even more on the days they sent me to his office. i'd come home and ride my bike for hours blasting some Reba. Reba sang with me while I rode down to the creek, playing with the bugs, making mud pies for my "friends," picking rocks and playing in the water, sometimes jumping farther than I should. one day i'd come home for a snack, to rehydrate, look at my mom taking a nap and she left a candle lit. I put my little fingers in the wax, poking closer at the flame, coating each one of my fingertips before I decided that I wanted to see how it felt if I dumped the rest of the melted wax down the side of my arm. i yelped for just a smidge - she heard me. now I've got candle wax all over my arm and my fingertips, the flame was still going and burning bright when she woke up. she screamed so loudly and it startled me so much I almost dropped the lit candle on the carpeted floor.
my mom had a temper. she was screaming about how I was going to hurt myself, catch the house on fire. but the calm I felt when that candle wax hit my fingers and my arm, watching the flame and having that childhood wonder about just how hot is hot?
looking back - the broken ankle, the candle wax and many other things that i'll write about another day -
these were the start of that high that addicts chase