I was an excellent athlete—up until tenth grade. I injured my back and wasn’t properly diagnosed for 18 months. I had severe pain in my left leg and was walking with a limp. My godmother convinced my parents to take me to an orthopedic surgeon. The result: a spinal fusion at the age of 16. Not a typical surgery for a 16-year-old but it was my surgery.
I was in the hospital for three weeks due to complications from the myelogram I was given the day before the operation and the anesthetic given the day of. My stomach had to be pumped for a week.
My junior year of high school was different than yours. It started with severe sciatic nerve pain each day, continued with the operation, and then home schooling for five months.
I was bedridden most of the time. My experience gave me a different education than most 11th graders. I read great novels and watched classic B&W movies into the wee hours of the morning. It’s a good thing the movies were in B&W because the small TV my parents put in my room was also B&W.
This was way before cable-TV become part of our lives. We only had four stations, including public television. The local stations used to go dark after the last movie finished. TV wasn’t 24/7 (I realize that must be a bizarre statement for a young person to read) and before signing off, a short film clip was played. I remember three different clips but the one I remember most is the film version of the poem you just read. Thanks to the wonders of YouTube, the short film is presented for you.
