10 Years of Invincibility: Part I
The first ten years of my life are a blur. I do not count those. Except to say, in those ten years I had two brushes with death: an older sister and a swimming pool.
The older sister was simply someone who enjoyed pinching me, scratching me, and pouring buckets of water over my head. For a five-year-old who never went to church, she was the closest thing to the devil incarnate.
I’ve forgiven her of course. Today she is my dear loving sister. I’ve even dedicated a book to her.
The swimming pool is the means in which I almost drowned at age five. I fell into a pool, unable to swim, and just fell to the bottom. A family friend, about four years my senior, swam down to get me.
Between the buckets and the pool, no wonder I don’t like water.
Why am I writing all this?
Because a wonderful figure artist is painting my portrait, and she wrote me an e-mail yesterday with the subject line “Odd Question”, and proceeded to ask me if I knew good health as a young child. I did not think of the above incidents when I wrote her back, because again, the first ten years are a blur.
But when I was about ten two things happened around the same time: my parents divorced and I had an epileptic seizure. So I told her I was emotionally unhealthy because of the divorce, and then when I found out that I had Epilepsy -- something my parents knew I had since the day I was born -- though to be fair -- the doctors said I had grown out of it -- around this time my subconscious feeling of health had probably changed (I also got several sprains and broken bones from playing soccer) and stayed that way up until I turned 30.
(For some reason, I didn’t mention that I was hard of hearing and very self-conscious about it.)
At age 30, my view of my health changed. At age 30, I felt invincible.
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