Little Willy Break Bone

Little Willy Break Bone
This is the true story of my broken bones. When I was eight years old I was climbing an old tree by the side of my home in Salina, Utah. I was probably 20 feet up into the tree when I grabbed a too small limb and it broke off and I fell to the ground. I got up and notice that my arm was twisted in an odd shape. I walked across the street to the hospital where my mother was working and she and the doctor set my arm without any anesthesia. It hurt a lot especially as he twisted the bones to try and get the arm straight again. He succeeded in part but my arm is still crooked. Good it was my right arm since I am left handed.
My next broken arm came when I was twelve. I was riding my bicycle down a steep rocky hill when a little kid ran across the road right in front of me. I slammed on my brakes and the bike flew out of control and I few off of it onto my face and skidded to a stop many feet down the hill. At least I didn’t hit the little kid who probably deserved to be hit for running right out in front of me. Anyway, I don’t remember how I got to the hospital that time, but again my mother and Dr. Noyes set the bones. This break was in a different place that the first one. Well, I got the cast off in 6 weeks and was riding horses out in the country with some friends. Two of the friends had very fast horses and both claimed to have the fastest horse in the county. A race was proposed but the rider of one of the horses did not dare race him , so I volunteered to ride him in the race.. We started to race and it was wildly fun and exciting and frightening. I had never ever been on a horse that could run nearly as fast as this one. Both horses raced like lightening down the road head to head . Finally my horse started to edge slowly into the lead and the other horse must have not liked it at all because he started to veer into my horse . I tried to stop my horse but he totally ignored me. I was pulling on the reins to stop him as hard as I could but it didn’t effect him in the least. Well in a few strides my horse was off the road and stepped into a ditch. Both horse and rider(poor little me) went head first down the graveled road. By ;the time we stopped skidding I was just a bloody mess from the gravel. My little metal boy scout match holder was shoved into my side and through my stomach wall. My arm was twisted and broken again and we were hours from anywhere. After what seemed like an eternity someone came. The only thing I remember as hurting was my little finger which had had the tip rubbed off a little by the gravel. The person that came took me to the hospital where the doctor could not be found. I was given a shot of morphine for the pain while they looked for the doctor. I remember lying there hoping they would never find the doctor because I was feeling so good from the shot. But he finally came and set my arm again.
About 5 weeks later I was playing baseball with my cast on and slid into home plate with my broken right arm down. ( I only broke my right arm every time, never my left) I still had my cast still on . I had modified the cast quite a bit by removing pieces so that I could play baseball and do everything else as normally as possible. Well, I broke it again in the cast and in a different place than any of the other times. So in to the hospital I went again where my mom and Dr Noyes again set it.
The last time I broke my poor little right arm was when I was riding on the back of a horse that a girl was riding. The horse reared up for some reason and off I went onto my arm and broke it again. All of these last four breaks were when I was twelve.
My last broken bone was when I was in a fight with a bigger guy and threw a wicked haymaker and missed his head and hit a locker in the band room. I only broke my hand bones this time so I didn’t even go to the doctor. By this time my mom and the doctor were tired of me anyway.
Old Man Willie