new-logo25W.R. McAfee, Sr.

Copyright  © 2013 by W. R. McAfee, Sr.  All rights reserved

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Let me say at the onset that doctors have saved my foot and my life in the past.  They’ve also damned near killed me.

The earliest bo-bo (pronounced bow-bow) I remember was jumping off a kitchen counter after my buddy and I had climbed up on it to get a cookie out of the cupboard. A half-pound coffee can with no rim set on the floor as a water dish for their cat. My heel came down in the middle of that can, and the can embedded itself in the ankle bone on both sides of my foot.

It’s hard to run with a coffee can stuck to the bottom of your foot. But not to scream.

I awoke  momentarily with my head in a lady’s lap in a pool of blood while another lady wrapped towels around my foot; remember the ether at the hospital and that’s all until I woke up in a hospital bed the next day with my foot in a cast.

I had to learn to walk again when they finally took the cast off.

A young doctor just out of med school was on duty when they brought me in.  He worked more than six hours tying nerves and whatever else had been sliced in my foot back together. Nurses brought him fresh supplies and water and kept the sweat out of his eyes.

He saved my foot and the use of it.

My family thanked him.  Profusely. More