When I was in high school, I was on the golf team. I get cooler by the blog entry, huh?
My senior year was my best year, despite the fact a doctor had decided all my aches and pains were from arthritis. Man, am I cool or what?
I medaled at several tournaments, including Regionals and perhaps more importantly, the Emporia Invitational.
Why is the Emporia Invitational so significant? Well, that year, our State Tournament was to be held at the same golf course. So it was kind of expected I would do well at State.
The day before the tourney was beautiful; sunny, not too warm but not too cool and the breeze was light. Perfect for golf!
I had a great practice round and then we all headed to the hotel for a good night's sleep.
Except we were a bunch of girls. Girls aren't good at the good night's sleep thing. Especially if one of those girls is a girl named Becky.
Becky and I managed to turn everything into a giant goofball-fest. Oh the stories I can--and probably will--tell . . . but not today. There's only room for one!
Becky and I were restless and decided we'd head to the pop (Yeah that's right I say pop! Not sodee pop!) machine for a refreshing Dr. Pepper. We walked into the vending machine/video game area and were amazed at what we found!
Dr. Pepper bottles littered the floor and more amazing--some gangly kid had his hand jammed up inside the dispenser of the pop machine.
"Oh! Oh hey girls! Close the door! Close it quick!!!"
We did as we were told and just stared in amazement.
"What? You want one? Grab some! I can't drink it all in one night!"
And we did. We grabbed like four each. What did we think we were going to do with them? I don't know, but I was pretty sure there wasn't any Dr. Pepper left in that machine and that may have been my only chance to get any!
We walked out and saw a bunch of adults hanging out by our only indoor means of escape. So we headed outside and realized the only way we could get to our rooms would be to jump the fence around the pool.
Becky gave me her bottles and started to hop when we saw someone heading our way. The closer he got, we realized he was wearing the hotel uniform. Busted!
"Hey. Did you girls gank the machine?"
"Gank?" we cried in unison. We didn't even know what the word meant! How could we be guilty of it?
"Yeah. That's when you pull pop out of the machine without paying."
So we did what any honest girls would do. We ratted out the GankMaster.
"Yeah. I guess I should go stop him. You girls have a good game tomorrow."
We laughed at what a weird word "gank" was and then Becky hopped the fence. I handed most of the bottles over the fence to her then climbed the fence. I straddled the top and then . . .
. . . fell down on the other side. Yeah that's right. Apparently golfers aren't nimble and graceful.
We laughed a lot, then hopped the other fence--which I cleared thank you very much--and back to the room we ran.
We told everyone of our adventures and showed them our loot. We had tuckered ourselves out and decided we'd better hit the sack.
I woke up the next morning and yawned. Stretched and OW! My elbow didn't want to stretch and hurt like hell! What was this all about???
Thinking it was just my arthritis acting up, I popped a few Ibuprofins and jumped in the shower. This is when I realized I could barely raise my arm above my head, my elbow hurt so bad. How was I supposed to play golf???
Worse yet, it was a cold, rainy day. The worst weather for golf! How could things go so wrong overnight?
I trudged through my day, aching and paining, freezing and sopping wet. Somehow, I finished, but nowhere near the score I had expected.
The pain didn't subside the next day. Nor the next, so off to the doctor I headed.
Limbs were bent this way and that, X-Rays were taken and a determination was made: I had torn ligaments in my elbow. Falling off the fence. Awesome.
So not only had I busted my arm, screwed up my golf game and helped my team place sixth at State, how was I going to be able to dance show choir in a sling???
Oh man, I'm a clumsy nerd.
Today, when I pulled into work, I used my left hand to turn into the parking lot. As I turned the steering wheel, something in my hand popped and twisted and caused great pain.
As the day has gone on, the pain has increased so now I'm a bit worried. And embarrassed.
"So it says on your chart you hurt your hand while driving. Were you in a wreck?"
"No. Um. I was just . . . uh . . . driving."