On becoming taller….

It’s strange, isn’t it? For years I went around telling everyone I was six feet tall in my bare feet. Somehow our persoality is tied in with how far the tops of our heads are from our toes. You remember backing up to the closet door each birthday and having mom mark how much you had grown in a year? You don’t? Well…nevermind.

Anyway as years passed I continued to fill in all height spaces on forms with “6′.” As the fates will have it, buttholes, I fell off a ladder a year ago and smushed a vertebra. It was then I discovered that while gravity had taken an inch from my frame, the accident also took an inch. What a shock to discover that I was only 5’10” – practically a midget. The doctors decided to let nature take its course and I should heal in about 6 months. Two months later a gaggle of teenages in a car worth $1.98 (maximum) decided to temp the fates themselves. They did it by running a stop sign and a flashing red light and T-boniing the car my wife and I were unlucky enough be in. This, it was thought by doctors would set back my healing “a couple of months.”

After a full year of pain and restrictions on what I could and could not do, the self-same doctors decided to operate and fuse some of my back bone. They would also shoot some cement in there, along with a chunk of my hipbone, to reorient the damaged vertebra.

Now I have to wear a brace which is similar to the chest and back plates of armor the knights of old wore, anytime I’m not lying down. I also have to do Physical therapy exercises, a heartless witch over sees three times a week.

But guess what. I am now 6′ tall again! Almost makes the pain and inconvenience worth it doesn’ it? Nah……not really.

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