Pop! by BF Keller - HTML preview

POP!

Once upon a dreadful, dreadful, painful Saturday, I broke my toe. But this isn’t the beginning, and we should probably start there. My English teacher says so. It all started at my house... in my garage. The Atrocious Garage of Doom. My mom told us not to play in there, but my brother coaxed me into doing it. “Come on,” he teased, “she doesn’t want us in there because we will make a mess. We won’t make a mess.” I knew this probably wasn’t true, but I did it anyway, because I really wanted to play in there. It is a 2-car garage with an insulated room in it, so it was pretty mammoth. And awesome.

There were ten or twelve white pine 2×4s about 10’ long lying on the cement floor in a tidy stack, so I grabbed four of them and and made a square out of them that I called our “tent” on the floor of the garage. We played that we were Arctic explorers in the “tent” for a while, but then my mother stormed in. She is very sweet when she is in a good mood, but boy, was she in a bad mood! I quickly began to stack the boards up, but the last one stuck out like (my) messy hair. I hurriedly shoved it into place, but the force in my shove knocked the other side down -- onto my toe.

I screamed in pain and terror like a wild animal in a trap. My 10 year old brother Tanyon scrambled out of a garbage can that my dad had recently bought (Tanyon was teasing my younger brother by saying he was Oscar the Grouch) into action, telling my 4 year old brother Nolan to get my mom, as my dad wasn’t home from work yet. She ran out of the house (I could see her through the open garage door) and looked at my toe, with me still bawling my eyes out.

When my dad got home at least an hour later, my toe was still numb from the shock. He told me to ice it, that there was nothing to do about it. I wanted to go see the doctor, but my parents said that the doctors couldn't do anything either. This wasn’t comforting, and it also wasn’t helpful that my toe was still numb -- in my eyes, a reason for panic. I put it in a bowl of ice that night. It helped. But not enough.

Within a few days, the area around the toenail began to swell, becoming a purple blob on my toe. My mom said I had most likely broken it. This gave me a strange sense of pride, because I had never broken anything before. The closest I have come is the time I chipped my tooth while dancing. But that is another story… Anyway, my dad kept pressuring me to pop it with a needle. I kept saying no. In my justification, you have to admit that sounds pretty gross and painful. He insisted that if we numb it with an icecube, I wouldn’t feel it. I didn’t buy it.

As the toe continued to swell to the size (and color) of a blueberry cream pie, I began to consider popping it. School was a little difficult, but the nurse gave me an elevator pass. As the week went on, I started leaning closer than ever before to popping my toe. Finally, I made my decision: I would pop it.

I told my dad I would do it that evening, and he got an ice cube and a needle. I let him numb it, but I absolutely refused to let him pop it. I took a deep breath and poked my toe. Nothing happened. I was disgusted with myself for thinking poking it on the top would pop it and, bracing myself again, I gingerly inserted it from the side, and blood appeared. I’m not kidding, I didn’t even see it come out- it wasn’t there one instant, and the next it was! Anyway, all went well. My dad took a picture before popping the toe and then after. I was stupefied by the difference.

School was a little easier as well. The miniscule hole opened again a few times, and I worked out the blood. At a K-Life event, a couple of kids got into a “kitty” fight. I tried to kind of get in the middle of them and one of them, Reed, accidentally stepped on my toe. For a moment, I was shocked by the jarring pain, but I recovered quickly. Later, I felt a strange squishy sensation in my shoe. As I limped to the bathroom, I prayed Please don’t let that be blood. I seem to have remarkably bad luck. This issue came up when I pulled off the boot I was wearing. The entire toe was blood red. Simply because that’s exactly what it was.

Anyhow, my toe is doing much better now. I can bend it a little, and I can run. School is working just fine, and I can now use the stairs. I couldn’t at first, because that would cause me to bend my toe. That would have been a nearly catastrophic, very painful process. As I type this sentence, I could see the bone in the toe if I wanted to. I know, I know, you’re most likely thinking things like, “Ew! Gross!” But that is the solid, 100% truth.