Do you remember your first trip to the emergency room, how you felt, and what led up to that visit? It was the summer of 2005 and every year my moms side of the family would rent a house in Lake Geneva Wisconsin for a week. It was a big dark house with many rooms. The smell of humid air and lake water ran throughout the home. Outside there was a little statue of a waiter holding out an empty tray. One house consisted of two grandparents, a great grandparent, three aunts, three uncles, six grandchildren, and a partridge in a pear tree. This year, however, was a little different because my parents weren’t there. My sister, Erin who was five at the time, and I, who was three, went down with my grandparents because we didn’t want to miss out on the family fun. Our cousins from California, Ryan and Lauren, were there which was always fun because we only saw them once a year. Ryan and Erin are the same age and were 5 at the time and Lauren and I are the same age and we were 3 at the time. Our other cousins Sidney and Jack were there too but they were too little to play with us.

It was late in the afternoon and Erin, Ryan, Lauren, and I thought it would be fun if we went to play at the park, which was in walking distance before dinner. My grandparents volunteered to take us all. With excitement, we all grabbed our scooters, strapped on our helmets, and headed out the door. The thing that we loved about riding scooters in Lake Geneva was that the warm asphalt streets were very hilly which made us go super fast. That’s also what made our parents and grandparents most nervous.

I would soon find out why.

The streets around where our house was was mainly golf cart driving so there was no worry of big cars being on the road. Soon enough, we all left the house and headed down to the park. It didn’t take very long til Ryan, Erin, and I were racing each other down two hills. My grandparents and Lauren were walking so needless to say, we were a little bit faster than them. Zooming down the hills it was neck and neck.

Finally, I had a breakthrough and I was in the lead.

I felt so cool because I was younger than them and I was beating them. They had totally underestimated me and I was going to win, hands down. It was the final stretch. The final hill. I was reaching the finish line when all of a sudden I went to press the break on the back of my scooter and it wasn’t slowing me down. I was going faster and faster and I couldn’t stop. My scooter was going out of control and I was headed down the hill towards a tall, dark, brick wall which had vines growing on it and encompassed a bridge. Panic raged throughout my little body as I wondered how I was going to stop myself. The wall was getting closer and I knew I was going to hit it. My instinct was to let go of the handlebars and put my arms out in front of me to brace myself. BAM! I hit the wall and plunged to the ground. A state of shock hit me as I was in disbelief that that had just happened. Erin and Ryan finally caught up to me and asked me if I was ok. I said yes and immediately started to crack up. We were all laughing then out of nowhere I started to cry. I stopped, then laughed. This went on for a solid two minutes and seemed to be my bodies response to the shock I had just encountered.

Moments later, an older couple on a golf cart, coming from the opposite direction, saw us and stopped to asked if I was ok. I said yes and we told them how our grandparents were right behind us and were coming. I quickly got up off the ground and all of us began walking back where we came from and shortly ran into our grandparents and Lauren. I began to cry. We were almost at the park so we didn’t see a point in turning around. Once we arrived I wasn’t even allowed to play. Instead I sat on the side and watched the other kids having fun. When we walked back to the house, my pinky seemed to be swelling up and not doing well. My grandma got ice from the freezer and laid me in bed. She called my parents and they decided it would be a good idea if Erin and I went home. We said our goodbyes and everyone wished me luck as we packed up the big silver mini van with dark seats that smelled of a brand new leather jacket and prepared for the voyage home.

On the way back to our house we stopped for McDonalds. As I was munching on some chicken nuggets from my happy meal I noticed some red stuff on my pinky. I immediately began to freak out. My grandma told me not to worry it was only ketchup and wiped it off my finger to try to keep me calm. Side note: it was not ketchup.

Once we arrived home my mom took me to the ER to get my pinky checked out. After a long wait a doctor saw me and by that time I was scared and in pain. In order to check out my pinky, he had to inject it with some numbing drug so he could touch it under the x-ray machine without hurting me. I was terrified to get the shot. Laying on the squishy table being held down by my mother I felt the big needle break the layers of skin and enter my pinky. Painful was an understatement. Unlike an arm, there isn’t a lot of fat in fingers, plus my finger was broken so you can imagine how much that shot hurt

Once I was all settled back in my room, my finger was put in a splint that I had to wear for quite a while, which was bothersome at times. I couldn’t get it wet, so when it came to showers and pool time I had to wear a bag over my hand and keep it dry. In addition, I had to keep that finger as straight as a pole at all times so it was a little uncomfortable for a three year old to have to play with. A nurse also gave me a cute teddy bear, which I loved and still have. I think it’s fair to say that stuffed animals can make any kid feel a little better.

A little later, the doctor came into my room and told us that it was the worst break in a finger he had ever seen. To this day that still shocks me.

When looking back on this experience I can only laugh. Who would have thought that riding a scooter and crashing into a brick wall would lead to the break of a lifetime. To this day my pinky is crooked and locks when I bend it; however, I survived and have a great story to tell, so what more could I ask for. There isn’t a moral to every story but to this one there is: if you are ever in Lake Geneva and riding your scooter to the park, make sure to slow down and watch out for brick walls. They come out of nowhere.