I believe it was later that same school year, or possibly in 8th grade that we were having a blast in PE again. We were learning gymnastics, a sport I really got into in high school for a brief time. We had heavy mats we hauled off the stage and placed around the uneven bars and the horses and other gymnastic equipment we were using for class. (My favorite was the uneven bars!)
Towards the end of class we had to return the mats to the stage. Since they were heavy and awkward, we would get a running start towards the stage… (I know you’re thinking, O Geez us what did she do this time?…) I didn’t do anything! Much. I simply helped get the mats up on the stage.
Well, actually, every time I would get a mat up there I would reward my efforts by jumping into an enormous net filled with giant foam cubes! Super fun! I had a blast with that stuff! I was laughing and running and jumping and bouncing in foam and finally I slid off the foam pile onto the stage floor laughing and the last thing I remember was to look on the faces of the kids in my class. I saw horror!
When I came to, it was to look into the face of my father. Now I can only imagine how long I was out and how long it took for someone to run to the office to call, well you get the point, if you read my previous post. Also don’t know what Dr. Dad did to help me or anything else about that incident, except hearing what happened.
Pretty simple really. While I was focusing on getting the mats on the stage and frolicking in the net wrapped foam cubes, what I neglected to notice was the 16 foot aluminum extension ladder leaning up against the back wall. At least it WAS leaning up against the wall until the foam cubes bumped it enough for it to lose balance and fall forward, cracking my scull or sounding like it. Hence, head injury #dos in jr. high.