{"id":329,"date":"2017-04-11T13:11:38","date_gmt":"2017-04-11T17:11:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/?p=329"},"modified":"2017-04-11T13:15:55","modified_gmt":"2017-04-11T17:15:55","slug":"band-accident","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/2017\/04\/11\/band-accident\/","title":{"rendered":"Band Accident"},"content":{"rendered":"

I did not play any formal, organized sports in high school; I was scrawny and would joke that my muscles were just barely strong enough to pick up and move the chess pieces, let alone swing a bat or throw a basketball. \u00a0This is not entirely true, of course; I did play in community soccer and baseball leagues. \u00a0But it is true that I could not throw a basketball high enough to get it above the rim until about the time I was in the tenth grade. \u00a0When you factor in the fact that I was generally not comfortable around other students – I felt that their topics of conversation were often times most improper, especially in locker room settings – it is no wonder that my time spent on the football field was in the marching band rather than on the football squad.<\/span><\/p>\n

This is not to say that being in the marching band was neither physically demanding nor dangerous. \u00a0Often times during band practice the football field was occupied by the football team, so we marched in the parking lot, where football yard lines had been painted onto the asphalt. \u00a0The reflected heat from that asphalt was oppressive, particularly in late August during band camp. \u00a0Our uniforms were heavy wool, and while they were nice late in the football season, by the time late May rolled around and we had to march in the local Memorial Day parade – and stand for a memorial service in the local cemetery – we all were ready to ditch those uniforms for cooler garb. \u00a0There were several students who fainted each year during that cemetery service, although I was not one of them.<\/span><\/p>\n

I do recall one year we marched in the Magic Music Days at Walt Disney World as our band trip for the year. \u00a0Our band also had a special performance that year, in that we were the band on hand to celebrate the opening of 24 new villas at the Give Kids The World resort, a cooperative endeavour between the Make-a-Wish Foundation and Walt Disney World. \u00a0That performance was in a nice, shaded area. \u00a0But the Magic Music Days parade itself was very hot and humid, and we were marching in full wool uniform. \u00a0When our band was marching to the cadence (not actively playing), we would swing our instruments in time to the steps. \u00a0(We had convulsions, as my wife says; her high school band did not do this.) \u00a0Left, right, up, down went the instruments. \u00a0Left, right, up, down. \u00a0In the heat. \u00a0I wore glasses, and the heat and humidity and wool uniform were making me sweat so much that my glasses wouldn\u2019t stay on my nose. \u00a0I hadn\u2019t thought to take them off before we marched and didn\u2019t have a place to quickly put them, so I marched with them dropping to the end of my nose. \u00a0Left, right, up, down went the instruments. \u00a0Left, right, push my glasses up, arm back down. \u00a0Left, right, push my glasses up, arm back down. \u00a0This was perhaps the most exhausting parade I marched in during my high school band career, and it had nothing to do with the distance we marched. \u00a0To be clear, it was the heat that made it exhausting, not having to push my glasses up on my nose every step.<\/span><\/p>\n

Accidents were also a hazard of marching band. \u00a0One day early in my freshman year, we were rehearsing a halftime routine (on the asphalt parking lot), and the choreography called for us to march clockwise around a square, turn halfway around, and march counterclockwise back to where we started. \u00a0My squad consisted of me (a saxophone player), a mellophone player, and a trombonist. \u00a0We marched clockwise, with the trombonist leading the way, followed by the mellophone player and then me. \u00a0We reached the point where we were to turn around, except the trombonist did it a beat too early. \u00a0Trombones are not small instruments, and the mellophone player caught the shaft of the trombone upside the head fairly hard. \u00a0I believe she was sidelined for the rest of the rehearsal.<\/span><\/p>\n

My own band accident was more spectacular, unfortunately. \u00a0It was late in the fall; the football team had qualified for the playoffs and the first playoff game was upcoming. \u00a0Members of the band always had lunch just before band class, so we could leave lunch early and head down to the band room to get instruments ready and head outside to practice if needed.<\/span><\/p>\n

The band room was built with tiers in the floor, as if they were risers on a stage. \u00a0This is a common construction for a band room (or even a choir room), so most anybody who has seen one can picture this one. \u00a0The cabinets where the instruments were kept were along the wall at the back of the room. \u00a0The chairs that were in the room had hard plastic seats and backs, with metal supports and slightly splayed legs.<\/span><\/p>\n

I left the cafeteria early and went to the band room. \u00a0I headed up to the back of the room to get my sax and somehow tripped over one of the chairs. \u00a0I fell forward, and my left forearm landed on a seat of a chair on the next riser up. \u00a0I continued to the floor; my left forearm did not.<\/span><\/p>\n

As I was getting back up to my knees, I noticed that my watch had come off my arm. \u00a0I saw it on the ground, reached over with my right hand, and picked it up. \u00a0I noticed that one of the little spring-loaded pins that holds the band on to the main body of the watch had come out, and I thought, <\/span>My watch is broken.<\/span><\/i> \u00a0I went to put it on my wrist, thinking I could work the pin back in place, and noticed that my arm was shaped like a dinner fork. \u00a0<\/span>My arm is broken<\/span><\/i>, I thought.<\/span><\/p>\n

As I have since learned through the Boy Scouts, there are many things you should do to treat a broken arm. \u00a0Move the arm as little as possible. \u00a0Put ice on it to control the swelling. \u00a0Use a splint. \u00a0Treat for shock. \u00a0My response was a textbook example of what <\/span>not<\/span><\/i> to do in the situation.<\/span><\/p>\n

I picked myself up off the floor, holding my left hand and lower forearm cradled in my right hand. \u00a0I went to the band director\u2019s office and told him that I was going to the nurse. \u00a0He took a look at my arm and said, \u201cGo.\u201d \u00a0Two other students who were in the office at the time said, \u201cWe\u2019ll go with him.\u201d \u00a0I believe one was the band director\u2019s son.<\/span><\/p>\n

By this time, the lunch period was over and the halls were starting to fill with students. \u00a0The nurse\u2019s office was as far away from the band room as you could get in the school, and I was having to navigate through the now-crowded halls. \u00a0Even with the two other students flanking me, it was being difficult.<\/span><\/p>\n

Our school had a permanent substitute teacher on staff. \u00a0He was not a substitute for any teacher in particular, but if a teacher had to miss a period during the day for some reason, he could fill in during that time. \u00a0We came across him outside the school gymnasium, just down the hall from the band room, and he saw my arm and immediately took a point position in front of us. \u00a0So there I was, headed through the crowded halls to the nurse, with a teacher in front at point and two students as wingmen.<\/span><\/p>\n

When we got to the nurse\u2019s office, there was a gaggle of students crowding the doorway with day-to-day high school student complaints: \u00a0headache, tired, stomachache, those kind of things. \u00a0With a single primal sound (I\u2019m not even sure what he said, but it was effective), the teacher cleared the students out of the way as Moses parted the Red Sea. \u00a0He got me in to see the nurse as a priority case.<\/span><\/p>\n

The story doesn\u2019t end there. \u00a0That particular day, my father\u2019s truck was in the garage for repairs of one sort or another, and he had taken my mother\u2019s car to work that day. \u00a0\u201cDon\u2019t get sick,\u201d she had told us boys as we left for school that morning, \u201cI can\u2019t come get you.\u201d \u00a0And so, when I talked to my mother, I had to at least point out to her that I didn\u2019t actually get <\/span>sick<\/span><\/i>, per se.<\/span><\/p>\n

After being called by the school, my mother called my grandmother, who did have an available car. \u00a0Before leaving to come get me, my grandmother made an appointment with her primary care doctor for me. \u00a0By the time all the logistics had been worked out, it was two hours after I had broken my arm before somebody was there to get me. \u00a0I don\u2019t recall how I spent the time, other than sitting there with my arm splinted and resting on a desk, but I do recall the school nurse commenting on how large the little half-moon areas at the base of my fingernails was.<\/span><\/p>\n

I spent about fifteen minutes in the waiting room at the \u00a0primary care doctor. \u00a0He took one look at the arm and basically said, \u201cYes, it\u2019s broken,\u201d and referred me to an orthopaedist a couple of floors above him in the medical building. \u00a0After going and getting x-rays from that doctor, I was finally able to understand just how much damage I had done to myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

The skin was unbroken, so it was not a compound fracture. \u00a0But I had broken both the tibia and the fibula in my left forearm at an angle. \u00a0If you put your forearm out horizontally in front of your face, the break was from the upper right to the lower left. \u00a0And the bones had slipped so that the bottom of the bone on the distal side of the break was above the top of the bone on the proximal side of the break – this was what made my arm look like a dinner fork.<\/span><\/p>\n

In order to set the arm, the orthopaedist had to pull my hand away from my body so that he could get the bones properly aligned. \u00a0This was the only time that I felt pain during the whole day.<\/span><\/p>\n

I was in a full-arm cast with my elbow at a right angle for six weeks. \u00a0By the third day, I was in considerable pain from not being able to straighten my arm. \u00a0After that cast came off, I was in a forearm cast for another two weeks, and then a splint as needed. \u00a0And I can tell when a storm is coming, because the low pressure front will trigger pain in my arm.<\/span><\/p>\n

And I missed marching in the playoff game. \u00a0A shame, as it was the only playoff game that the football team was in while I was in high school.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In which I discover exactly how the band room is a hazard, and what dinner forks and weather forecasting have in common.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[54],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/329"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=329"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/329\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":333,"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/329\/revisions\/333"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=329"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=329"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/coolskill.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=329"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}