Blood is red. Looking back at the memory I don’t remember crying but when I ask my mom she always says that I did cry. The scar on my leg is a constant reminder to not mess around with sharp objects. I was four years old when I decided to play in a net laundry basket, you know that ones with the metal rod to keep if from falling. It had a cartoonish design on the outside like a bear it seemed like a good idea that I play in it while my mother fold the laundry.
My sister had also decided to play in the net basket so me being my childish self thought it would be fun to play with it too, the basket wasn't even that big so I don't know how two small human beings would fit and actually have enough room to play,but we did and we apparently had fun.
I don't remember why I wanted to get out of the basket maybe it was to go help my mom or get something to drink, but for whatever reason it was it was important enough for me to leave the basket in a fast motion. While exiting the basket I had not seen that the basket was broken and sticking right into the basket was a metal rod that was supposed to support and hold up the basket.
I left the basket and instead of going to do whatever I had planned on doing in the first place I could not do instead I was sitting on the outside of the basket (apparently) crying. My mom must have heard me crying because the next thing I know she is holding me and my brutally damaged leg. I remember looking at my once perfect looking leg, it had a huge cut it was bleeding and I was one hundred percent sure that I could see bone.
If I was crying then I probably would still have been crying when my mother put the bandages on my knee, and the bandages were not like any I had ever seen before the only ones that I was used to seeing was the typical bandage that you get when you scrape your knee with the cool cartoon character on it, but this one was different it was absolutely huge which matched my gash in my knee.
My mom put the bandage on my knee and my sister ,mom and I all got in the car to go to the hospital. The Hospital waiting room had carpet and that carpet was grayish blue. In the waiting room corner there were toys and book that I could play with . I don't remember if the hospital were busy that day I guess I was too distracted by the amazing toys and books in that corner. After a while I got to see the doctor and during the visit he looked at the gash in the side of my knee. The doctor said I needed stitches, I had no idea what he was talking about.
Getting the stitches probably was bad, I wouldn’t know because I don’t remember the feeling of the needle going in and out of my skin. The one thing I can clearly and vividly remember was my mom standing over at the end of the chair table thing reading me a book. I think she thought the book would keep me distracted from the fact that I was getting my leg sewed up. That book kept me distracted because I don’t remember feeling an ounce of pain.
After my visit to the hospital I had to make sure that I didn’t damage knee. So I had to be careful when I went outside to play or did simple things like walk. After a couple of weeks I had to get the stitches removed and to this day I have a scar on the side of my knee, I can even see the vertical lines of where the stitches come across the large horizontal line that was once a large gash.