Life Changers: 17th B-Day

You know that voice in the back of your head, the one that sounds like your <insert authority figure here>, saying "You're going to regret that when you're older"? Ya, well, there was at least once in my life that I wish I had listened to that voice.

When I turned 17, my friends and I celebrated the same way we had been since I was 15. We loaded up into a car and went down the road to my Grandmother's to go sledding in the gullies at the edge of her property. This seems like the obvious thing to do when your birthday is in the dead of winter and you live in the Middle of Nowhere, Northern Ontario. This year, things were a little different. There was a good foot of fresh powder! So we did what any fun loving group of teens would do.

My boyfriend at the time was six foot two and built like a line backer. So he took turns lifting us over his head and throwing us down the hill into the fresh powder. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It may even have been my idea. Well, when it came for my turn, something happened. His foot found a gopher hole and it through off my trajectory. I landed on the flat of my shoulders, crumpling me like a tin can. I was in a fair amount of pain, and I couldn't breathe. I'm not even sure I managed to uncrumple myself right away. I know I couldn't even lift my hand to let them know I was okay.

They came scurrying down the embankment, and by the time they got to me, I was able to move around. I even got up and walked back up the hill, and continued to sled for the rest of the afternoon. I felt fine.

But today, among other problems, I've got a mysterious back pain that can only be managed with some of the most powerful painkillers this side of narcotics. I can't help but think back to that day, and hear my mother's voice in my head. "You're going to regret that when you're older..."