walking on walking on broken glass

Just the week before, my best friend Drew had gone up on there to hang the weekly events calendar. And Drew wasn't scrawny. He was built; he had a swimmer's body, in very good shape, muscular. He was on the taller side, definitely an athletic build. And no one thought twice about him getting up on the glass display case. I guess it was actually viewed more as a table, for the love of God, I don't know why, but it was. And it was a weekly occurrence. Whoever was on desk duty the day it needed to be changed, would hop up on the glass case, and change the weekly calendar. It was never questioned. Never thought it might not be a good idea.

Until it wasn't. A good idea. Writing this right now, is giving me the feeling. My heart is pounding faster, I'm that girl who chomps her gum neurotically that I hate, and my palms are sweating. Aaron, you owe me one, big time.

It wasn't a big deal. I finished coloring in the smiling, sunglassed sun, scribbled in "open swim" for Friday afternoon, and proceeded to the case to hang up the events calendar. The case, was about waist high, maybe three or four feet long, and housed random swimming paraphernalia- goggles, bathing caps, water bottles, etc. I took off my flip flops, and quickly hopped up on the case. I'm on top of the glass case, kneeling. I had placed the poster sized calendar on the counter next to me, so I had to reach over for it. I shifted my weight, from both knees, to more on my left. I think I just had my left hand on top of the glass, supporting my left side at this point. And all of a sudden, it shattered. I crashed. Through the whole display case.

Glass.Everywhere.
And blood. All over.

Holy shit. You can imagine the noise this must have made. I honestly don't remember much of this after the falling part. I remember people rushing into the outdoor-like lobby. You can see the pool from the desk in the lobby, and the display case is/was in the corner. So people heard it, and they rushed in. It didn't even hurt. The cut was so deep, (stop reading now if you're skeeved out about blood and things of the like- I don't even know how I'm writing this) you could see the bone. Eww, the bone. At least that's what I've been told. I don't even remember what it looked like at the time. I just remember glass, and blood, everywhere.

I guess I thought it wasn't as bad as it was, because I started to get up, thinking it was just a minor cut. I was wrong. The ambulance showed up, and I remember that one person could ride in the back with me. I was 17 at the time, I think, and I had a good friend who was 16, also a lifeguard there. I wanted her to come with me, but my boss ended up insisting upon it. The boss that was always the biggest bitch and the last person there that day that I wanted in the back with me. And Drew wasn't even there. I wanted him there to hold my hand and tell me it would be okay.

I barely remember the ride there, but I remember getting to the hospital, and waiting. My mother was in a meeting and was unreachable, in Boston for the day. My father was at work, but luckily they got a hold of him. He called my mom, who was taken out of this big conference she was at, and they both came to the hospital. The rest is a little foggy. I had to get reconstructive surgery, because the cut was that bad. It was my muscle and everything- and it wasn't just stitchable. It needed full on surgery to reconstruct... my leg. Eww. To this day, glass really freaks me out. Glass and blood.
And poor Drew. He came into work later in the day for his shift, to find the swim club closed for business. And it was him who had to clean up the the glass, the bloody mess, my blood, that was now in the spot that once was the display cases home.

Wicked sucks. Gross. I have a big scar on my knee, and a small one on my left pinky. I guess it's a "cool" story, but not one I like to talk about too much, mainly because it just skeeves me out. But it is random, and kind of a "no way!" type of thing to bust out if the conversation is dull at a dinner party. Maybe I should have told Mr. Dinner Date that one.

Lesson learned: DO NOT kneel on glass display cases. Not safe.