Philosophy 101: It breaks therefore, it is my leg.

This happenend a few years ago when I was taking classes at the main UofA campus. I was at the Walton College of Buisness headed toward my Econ for Elem Teachers class, when my leg broke....again. I thought it was the bolt to my foot like last time, but no. This was much worse. The type of foot I had at the time, didn't have a bolt. It was attached to the TITANIUM rod by a series of screws and socket things. The TITANIUM rod (or aluminum can't remember which) broke above the foot. It looked like a hollow spear was sticking out of my pant leg. I sat down in the middle of the hallway and a coulple of my classmates happened to be walking by. They asked if I needed help and I told them to just to get me a chair. As they did that, I called my grandparents to bring me crutches. I now keep crutches in my vehicle at all times. I was thankful that I was in a building that was somewhat easy to access from the street. My grandma showed up and I gave her directions to where I was at. I felt so bad because it was hard for her to walk down the stairs. The only elevator I knew of was way down at the other end of the building. The crutches she brought were too short and very old. I think they were the crutches I had when I was 13 and first lost my leg. But, they were better than nothing. I had to go up the stairs using those things. I hate stairs. I wasn't worried about what I looked like; been there done that. What I was worried about was the Philosophy paper that was due. I'm not sure why I was so determined to get that paper in that day. I think it was because; 1. it was already late, or 2. I did not turn in the previous paper that had been due. Maybe it was the final paper.

I had to go to Old Main and drop it off at my professor's office. There is no easy way to get to Old Main. My grandparents took me to my car and I drove to the parking lot that was the closest to where I needed to go. I still had about three million miles to crutch-walk because nothing is close on that campus! I started using my leg spear to help propel me faster toward my goal. Sweat was pouring off me but I made it to the building and rode the elevator to the floor the office was located on. I went to his door and knocked, praying he would be there. He opened the door and I thrust my paper at him panting that my leg broke and that I wouldn't be in class. He took in my sweat streaked face and too short crutches and I could tell he was concerned more for my sanity. He asked about my leg and I said it was fake and stuff like this happens all the time blah, blah, blah. He said that I didn't have to turn it in under the circumstances, he would have understood. I could hear the exasperation in his voice. I find a lot of people sound that way around me... I lamely replied that I wanted to make sure he got it. I wish I could remember why it was so important. Maybe it was the last class before the final. Maybe I'm masochistic.

I got back to my car with a hole in the leg of my pants where the spear pierced the cuff. I think I sat in my car for thirty minuets just resting before I finally drove home. I wish I could say I had some ironic philisophical break through but all that came to mind was, "Shit happens."