Although I drove to my doctor in style, my mind was soon changed when I was scheduled for an xRay. I had no idea what that was. I was terribly frightened of the unknown and my dad did little to ease my mind. I saw these huge machines. I screamed and cried and forced all the strength out of my dad. He finally told me how that was how they took pictures of my bone. It didn't hurt. I eased my mind and subjected myself to the terrifying machine. Of course, there was no pain.
We had to wait for the results. The doctor told my dad that I did not have a broken foot, but a severely bruised bone. I would not be able to participate in any PE activities for a month, nor could I go to recess, or any other physical activity. Well, why else would I need to go to school? I was devastated. My dad, counting mentally the $$$$$$ he had lost to feed his family. That seemed to be undermined, however, by driving slowly down Geary Blvd. in that convertible with our hair catching the breeze of the San Francisco air.
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