I was kind of active, or naughty to be exact, when I was small. Going to medical doctor clinic and hospital were not uncommon to me. Before I turned twelve, I already have couple stitches on my forehead, a small scarf on my face, and I have broken my arm twice. I did not know the freedom I was enjoying when I was physically perfect until an accident happened. One day my sister, my cousins, and I were in a park, we decided tag. When my cousin was counting down, my sister and I were running as fast and far away as we could. Being the naughty kid I was, I decided to climb a fence to take a short cut. But I fell hard on the ground.
My right hand landed first. I tried getting up but something felt strange. Then I realised I broke my right arm. I broke my other arm before but this time it felt different. It hurt more and I could not move my right arm. I still remember I looked at that arm, it was just hanging there exactly how Harry Potter was when he broke his arm. I was only 12 at that time. Instead of waiting for an ambulance, my mother drove me immediately to the Emergency Room in the hospital where she was a nurse. Not surprisingly, I was crying on my way to the hospital, thinking they might cut my arm off.
Luckily, the doctor did not cut my right arm off. The bone was fractured so bad that I had to undergo three surgeries in three months in order to realign the broken pieces. I also had to go through physical therapy to rebuild the strength of my right arm after the surgeries. As a very active kid that I was, it was tough lying on the patient bed for around 2 weeks. So I started talking to the boy sharing the same patient room with me. He had neuromuscular disorder. He could not move at will and needed assistance to bathroom.
This leaded me to think about the other patients in the hospital. They all having difficulties of their own and I was just with a broken arm. I started to think about my life; the good and the things that I did and get hurt. A broken arm is at least better than an amputated arm. A bad situation is bad but it could be so much worse.
I remembered the worried look when my parents knew I had to undergo three surgeries. Those days that I was in the hospital, my family was there with me. Since my mother was a nurse at that hospital, if she was working she came to see me frequently to make sure I was staying on bed. My dad brought me snacks everyday and my computer so that I could play video game on bed. My sister and I went to the same school and she told me how other teachers and friends asked about me. Lying on hospital bed, I started to think how lucky I was that I could stay in a private hospital and undergo surgeries that other people may not have the chance. I also thought about how I took it for granted that my parents have provided me. I started to think I should try not to get hurt so often to let my parents worry and that I should appreciate my parents more and love my sister better since I thought she was so annoying.
This accident also changed how I perceive the world. I started noticing people who are blessed with less in the community. I began to save up the money for video game and denote it to the poor. I joined the volunteer work in school to tutor kids in the poor part in my city. I realised few of us are blessed with more in life while there are even more less fortune people. Because I am blessed relative more, I have more reasons to give back to the community. This is the thinking I still have since that incident.