People below looked so tiny way down there…
The fellow who held the rope attached to my harness was a friend. It was not that I didn’t trust him per se, as he did this sort of thing for a living. We just all pranked each other so dang much and well… It was a long way down. Ultimately, his hand on that rope was the only thing that stood between me and certain death. Flashbacks to the trauma service flew through my subconscious.
Mangled bodies. Me. Mangled bodies. Me. My mangled body.
The platform wiggled precariously beneath my feet.
Someone needs to fix this thing! Do you hear me?
It took a sudden surge of willpower to keep my legs from shaking. It was then that I realized that I would have better odds surviving a jump than I would surviving the climb back down that stupid pole.
I’ll be damned if I am gonna let this beat me!
Several other people had already gone first, including two little boys. They had made the jump and caught the bar suspended a few feet in front of the wobbly platform. Made it look easy, in fact. If I didn’t make it, I would be a laughing stock.
So I jumped.
For some reason I thought it would be much safer to catch the rope attached to my harness rather than the solid metal bar in front of me. Why? Who the hell knows. In a fraction of a second, the skin on a fair portion of several fingers had been burned off from the friction of the rope and now I was dangling fifty feet up in the air.
My fingers were in so much pain I was unaware of the new abdominal hernia that had developed. In fact, it was not until weeks later that I fully realized what had happened.
Several years and two babies later, the thing had grown to the size of a giant grapefruit. I named him Steven. Someday, I will tell you about getting rid of Steven. For now, you will just have to use your imagination.