Pseudo miracle
I used to be a right sporty git; rugby twice a week, for club and school, same with hockey. Cycling 5 miles to and from school for a couple of years. All this ended when I was diagnosed with Osgood Schlatter's disease. Far from being the wasting away terminal illness it sounds like, it's actually an affliction of the knees, when your tendons can't keep up with your bone growth. The result is pain from running or impacts, and the more it hurts, the more it's going to hurt. I spent the best part of 4 years unable to sit comfortably in a car, because I could never straighten my legs out to get comfortable.

I couldn't really do anything active at all at this point. No sport involving running or even walking, staying inside to read at lunchtimes instead of facing an hour on my feet, it was pretty horrendous. I'd had more than enough so the next time we visited the hospital we made sure they did something. So I came away from that visit with one of my legs completely in plaster, from ankle to hip. I had to stay in that for 3 months, and they would put a new one on the other leg. Sound like fun? It was, actually. I imagine few of you have actually spent much time in a wheelchair, and whilst being wheelchair-bound is definitely not a barrel of laughs, I don't think I've ever had more fun than in a wheelchair when you're essentially OK, you've just been ordered to walk as little as humanly possible. This made for great entertainment. Watching people's faces when I had an R.E lesson upstairs; wheeling to the stairs, looking pitifully up them, swinging my leg round and walking straight on up (slowly, admittedly).

I became extremely good at wheelchair wheelies, eventually - after many cases of going over backwards - able to hold them indefinitely and go wherever I wanted on 2 wheels; even down stairs. My friends would push me round school at full tilt, once causing one of the tyres to pop off the rim and me to brown my pants.

So - the miracle. About a month or 2 in, I was wheeling round with Richard, a good friend, who volunteers to wheel me along a path as fast as he can. We build up speed until he's running completely flat out. The path was set at an angle next to the English block, so as we ran along it we got progressively closer to the building. We reach the end of the path, Richard probably running at about 30mph now (more probably not) and he glances the very corner of the building. I say glances, the wheelchair stopped completely dead and I was catapulted out at a very high speed, travelling I would say, a good 15 feet before hitting the ground.

Now what would you expect to happen to me? Bear in mind the full leg cast. Nope, I didn't go arse over tit and end up in a bloody heap. I hurtled through the air, landed feet down and somehow held my balance, managing to half-run until I could stop. I looked at Richard, who was somewhere between terror, exhaustion and cracking ribs laughing. But it was the look that the two girls sitting on the bench closest that just set it off perfectly - the most offended I've ever seen someone look at me. To the untrained eye, I had just performed an absolutely perfect, sans-sandtrap, cripple long jump. With a Jesus-has-healed-mah-legs landing.

Apologies for length, it would have been a Paralympic World Record.
( Rookie You'll have to speak up, I'm wearing a towel, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:56, 3 replies)

fab story!
have a clicky from me!
( bluemeat has been best of all the animals since, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 16:29, closed)

*clicks*
Very well told.
( thealternativefact, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 17:35, closed)

One of those rare QOTW answers that gets me laughing out loud. Empty office, thankfully! Clickety.
(Musuko, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 18:47, closed)