I went through a phase in my life when I would always throw up, and empty my stomach out where ever I was. I don’t know why, but it always happened. Some times it came in handy, and others it created a great family story, but most often, it couldn’t have come at a worse time. Like in fourth grade when my class was walking out to go to the library on a Friday morning, my stomach didn’t feel too great. So, as we walked through the classroom door, the bathroom was right across the hall, it couldn’t have been any closer, I just let everything go. How embarrassing is that?! Right in front of my whole class, I decide it’s a good time to throw up.
Right in the center of the hallway I emptied my stomach right in front of my whole class . Then, I went down to the nurse, Mrs. Level, and said it was time for me to go home.
My weekend started early.
I didn’t get to go home right away because even though I walked to and from school, a whole three blocks, almost every day I had to wait to get picked up. Both of my parents have worked full time downtown my whole life. This made my brother and I both grow up fast, I got a house key in third grade, I knew if I left my lunch at home I wouldn’t have a lunch that day. I was waiting in the nurse’s office, I was waiting for someone to pick me up, I was thinking it would be an aunt, I heard a stroller roll down the school hallways. It was grandma. I love my grandma, we are very close, I was happy to see her, I knew I was going to get to play with my cousins. My grandma has babysat all 18 of her grand kids. In comes the stroller and four of my baby cousins. One thing you have to know about my grandma is that she doesn’t drive. Even though I knew that I was going to have to walk, I felt as if I was getting picked up in a limo, because when your sick grandma treats you like a queen. As we leave school grounds my grandma, cousins, and I head to Uptown Park Ridge, where we got bagels at Panera, and then walked to grandmas house, and got to play outside for the rest of the morning.
Another time was when I was about five years old, it was Saturday, or what we call in my family ‘daddy fun day’ because my mom always worked mornings. We were waiting for my mom to get done with her half day of work, so we would get in the pre-packed car and head to Door County. I was playing with our next door neighbors, and we were cooks this day. We had our buckets filled with water mud and torn apart plants that were all mixed together. It was the mother load. Now the last thing to do is to transport it to the back of my yard. Our neighbors had the little battery operated cars that could fit two people. My neighbor, Trey, was driving the Jeep Wrangler, and the bucket of mush was in the passenger seat.
We couldn’t move the bucket because if it would have spilled over the car, then it would have been the end of the world.
So I was standing on a rail trying to balance, and as we were going down my driveway right as we passed the bright red brick chimney, I fell. I hit my head on the chimney then on the concrete driveway. When I stood up all I could think of was dad help me. There was no blood thank goodness.
I was in shock.
I vividly remember sprint up the deck and into the house. To this day, I don’t understand how I was able to run that fast, it could have been the shock. Anyways, when I reached the back door I looked inside, and my dad was sitting in the family room watching Hogan's Heroes, just like what he does today, some things never change. I was in shock and didn’t know what to do. My dad, who grew up the oldest of eight kids never saw a box of bandaids in his house when growing up, he gave me an ice pack and said to rest. We all know that if my mom was there, I would have had a blanket, slippers, a bowl of soup, and my favorite ice cream with in three minutes. When there are eight kids running around things happen, and injuries aren’t a big deal. Time passed and I don’t remember what was going on or where my brother was, but when my mom got home we told her what happened, and then got in the car. Well, no, my dad told her what happened, “She just scraped her knee, she’ll be fine by tomorrow”. Of course that didn’t happen. We got in our minivan and headed to our family paradise. I was sitting in the middle seat of the third row. My brother was in one of the captain seats. We are just driving down the highway.
When all the sudden I start projectile vomiting.
It felt like there was an atomic bomb going off in my stomach. The bad part was that there wasn’t a row of seats in front of me to stop it, so it reached mom and dad all the way in the front seats. My dad being a brave soul pulls the car over and picks me up this whole time. I’m still going strong and emptying my stomach all over my dad. The next thing I know my dad is holding me on the side of the expressway, and he is covered in my vomit. This whole time I couldn’t stop crying; I had tears running down my face. While last week’s dinner was coming out.. what a lovely sight right? After six minutes I finally had emptied my stomach of everything that I ever consumed like an empty gas tank that has nothing to run on. Now my dad started to realise that I was actually hurt. We get off at the Urgent Care Center in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, aka the middle of nowhere. We got there, and by this time it was dark out, and I just wanted to go to bed.
But, then the doctor said, “She needs to get a CAT scan”. When you get one you can have one person in the room with you. Most kids would pick mom, but I didn’t.
I picked my dad.
To this day I don’t understand why I picked my dad. I am extremely close with both of my parents. My mom was hurt when I said ‘dad’. My dad is calm. My mom is frantic. My mom felt as if her only daughter traded her for someone else.  My mom gets so excited about the small stuff which is why I love to be around her. In this moment I need my dad to calm me down. When we finally reached Door County after the hospital I felt better and had to rest for most of the trip.
The most recent accident was the summer between freshman and sophomore year. I had just finished the health summer school course, which was extremely hard for me to learn a chapter a day and was so scared about passing. Then right after health ended I went to volleyball camp. By the end of camp the coaches have picked their team weeks before tryouts are even held, and every year the coach says, otherwise, but every girl in the gym knows it’s a lie. After the last day of health and volleyball, my mom and I were going to leave for Door County, but we had to stop at my aunt's house to pick up a dress that she had bought me. That same day right after volleyball my stomach felt weird. So my mom and I are in the car on our way to Aunt Linda’s house when all the sudden I start throwing up, emptying my stomach with my head out the window like a dog. I wish that it was on the side of an express way this time, but it wasn’t.
Nope, it was on Touhy, yes the Touhy that goes through the middle of Park Ridge.
I was afraid of someone from school see me at such an embarrassing moment.
I still wonder to this day if anyone saw me. Finally we get to my aunt’s pick up this dress. I vividly remember my aunt in the middle of the night showering down the car with a hose. Then we go to the hospital, and it turns out that I had a stomach ulcer. 
Who knows when the next accident will be? The most recent time was after my family went out to dinner and I got the mac n’ cheese grilled cheese sandwich. The most important part all three of these stories is location. Location can make it or break a story. Think about it. If I was at home, none of these stories would be a classic story. Maybe there will be an addition to my collection of graceful stories.