5/21/2023 0 Comments Unpolished gem pung![]() ![]() While I absolutely do not equate my situation with the seriousness of losing a leg or a foot in a horrid attack, it has brought back a lot of images and memories. Hearing and seeing several accounts of victims of the Boston bombing who are lucky to be alive but are now amputees with inspiring attitudes, I was compelled to share my story of losing several of my own digits. The first two fingers on my left hand were mangled, hanging like ground beef by a thin strand of skin. My dad was able to extract my hand by removing the chain guard and left-side engine panel on the bike. It became chaos as my parents as well as aunts and uncles and cousins came scurrying up the road. (Trust me, I couldn’t replicate the freaky endo-from-hell again if I tried for 100 years.) Trapped, I could only scream bloody murder for someone to come to my rescue. ![]() At age 13, within earshot of my idyllic, lakeside Kansas home, my hand was ensnared in the sprocket of the Suzuki 185cc motocross bike. ![]()
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