Heading home....

 Well, the day came for my discharge and I was headed home. I don't recall what day I was discharged or how many days I was home before I resumed attending school, but I do recall my mother telling me that I had to get someone to "carry" my books and I would be able to get a pass which allowed me to leave class early and travel through the hallways without the chance of anyone bumping into me. Now keep in mind that I was in the all too familiar body cast. I don't actually recall a lot of kids being mean to my face but I did get a lot of stare's and a lot of kids talking to each other while covering up their mouths so that I wouldn't hear. I never did hear much, but when you know kids are talking about you, it almost doesn't matter exactly what it is they are saying, just that they are talking about you.


The friend, the only friend I really had any longer, was the one I chose to be my "book carrier". When I asked her, she was thrilled, as this allowed her to leave classes early too! Her name was Janet Christy. I first met Janet when we were in Girl Scouts together and always remained friendly, even though her family was more affluent than mine. Janet lived in Avondale and she was so pretty. Blonde with long legs and a smile that could win you over in a second. On top of that, Janet was a smart girl. If you recall, Janet came to visit me a couple of times while I was in the hospital.

I remember my mother insisting that I write thank-you notes to all of the people that had sent me flowers, cards and gifts and so my mother and I enlisted the help of my sister Michele. She was to help write some thank you cards with me and sign them "Valerie" because I had so many to write. But.....Michele inadvertently signed her own name to all of them! We were "exposed" - I didn't write all of them myself. The "secret" is out! Ha! Ha!

I also remember that Dr. Hardy strongly encouraged me to participate in physical therapy and in particular, swimming. I fought this notion with everything in me and I won! However, with all due respect to my mother, I don't think she made the right decision. Yet, as a mother myself, I actually understand why she didn't push me. I am certain that she felt that I had had enough!! Enough pain, enough surgeries, enough of it all and I don't think I needed to push too hard to convince her that I wanted no more of it. I do think I would have been much better for it though. School ended and the summer vacation began. I didn't do much all summer. I had no desire to go out with that cast, plus I was HOT!! It was heavy and it was hot. I think I spent the majority of the summer watching TV in front of fan!! It was brutal.

Toward the end of the summer vacation, I received a call from Janet Christy that she and her parents had decided that she was going to attend ”The Williams School" in New London, CT. The Williams School is a co-educational private college prep school. I was heart-broken. My only friend was leaving me. So sad. In the end, I never really saw a lot of Janet Christy after that. I would see her on occasion down in Watch Hill or at a function here or there. We were never really friendly again and sadly Janet passed away quite a few years ago when she succumbed to breast cancer. If I recall correctly, she was living up North, New Hampshire or Vermont I think and she left behind her husband and 2 or 3 small children. My heart was heavy when I learned of her death. She was good to me when I needed a friend and I will never forget her. Godspeed Janet.

The next school year began and I felt a little better just starting my second year of junior high. I think I just left class early myself now, I had no "book carrier" and this year started relatively smoothly. I continued to go to Newington Children's Hospital every 3 months for a cast change, enduring the same experience with the plaster of Paris and saws as I previously stated. However these times, I would arrive at the hospital (or did I say this already?) and I would be brought down to the cast room, they would saw it off and I would be allowed to lay flat on a bed. I would be wheeled up to a room where I would be joined by my parents. A nurse would come in and squirt baby oil all over me and I was allowed to scratch and feel my skin on a soft mattress. To this day, sometimes when I get into bed at night, I stop and marvel and the wonderful feeling of lying on a soft bed and relish in how comfortable it really is on our bodies. After several hours of just scratching (I would be soooo itchy from the dead skin and I would be scratching it right off of me) and feeling myself settling into the mattress, the nurses would take me for a bath. Once again, I was hoisted by this apparatus that would lift me into the air and into the tub. It felt sinfully wonderful. To this day, I say it is the little things in life that make us happy. I loved when they would rub my skin with a facecloth. I would be dried off and then the nurse would slather body cream on me and I was always sad when it was time, once again, to be wheeled back to have another cast put on. Sometimes, it seemed like it would never end. But it did. Eventually.

Right before the new school year began, I went back for a new cast and...........this time they stopped the cast at my collar bone. No more cast under my chin or behind my head. I felt like I would wear a shirt without it being so obvious. They even cut a small "V" in the front, so when I would wear a button-down shirt, I felt more normal. Hmmm..........normal. I guess I am lying. I didn't feel "normal" at all, but it was a little more close to normal than I had been in a really long time. And now when my sister Ursula would wash my hair, we didn't have to worry about getting the cast wet!!! Thank God for small miracles! Isn't it amazing the little things that can make us so happy?? I think that was when I really understood the concept of being grateful for the little things - it was then that I learned that things can always be worse. Worse was having the cast come under my chin and halfway up my head. Better was having it at my collarbone with a "V". I like "better" than "worse", so always remember, things can always be worse!! Right?