Impalement

It was a cold, beautiful Michigan winter day. The snow was firmly packed and excellent for outdoor activities which are so common in our state.

We loaded up the car and headed out for a wintry blast of cold air. I was feeling the excitement mount as the toboggan run came into view. I leaped out of my door and headed for the tall, wooden structure located on the side of the hill. As I approached the much anticipated thrill of speed, cold and tension, the snow crunched underneath my feet as I ran to get the first ride of the day.

Other families were pulling into the parking lot and were busily untying their favorite speed craft, looking forward to the blaze of adrenalin which waited us all.

I jumped onto the toboggan and prepared myself to get the maximum speed from my steed. I leaned over my legs and let my shoulders rest on my knees as I held fast to the rope which was fastened to the front of the unit. I held tight and put my head down and shoved off.

Waiting about half way down, on a sloping curve, a small splinter about the size of a toothpick pushed itself toward the top of the run, jutting out into the path of the careening toboggan which was picking up speed every millisecond. The air rushed past my ears as it cooled my cheeks, filling my mouth with flakes of lightly falling snow. The ride gathered momentum. The wooden rails of the run were a blur as the toboggan called out for the security of the rail to keep it on it’s quickened pace.

As the curve began, the toboggan leaned into the two-by-four which held it fast and kept it from going over the edge of the run. The steep right-handed curve held my craft steady as centrifugal force pushed it harder to the left of the track. My left side stiffened to absorb the shock of the bouncing effect as the ride intensified.

If the splinter could have called out to me about the tragedy it was about to cause, it would have screamed out to me to pull out of the way of its tiny monstrosity.

Then it happened!

In a split second, the tiny splinter entered my jeans right below my left rear pocket. It then proceeded to pierce my skin and tunnel it’s way into my left buttock. It stubbornly held onto its parent piece of wood, a long eight-foot creosote soaked two-by-four which began to split quickly as my body caught the full impact of the small chip of destruction.

As the splinter entered my buttock, it continued to hold fast as it went into my lower torso. From my crouching position, my torso was tight against my thighs and received the splinter full force as it dug its way into my abdominal cavity, followed by it’s unforgiving parent.

As the splinter exited my back, the cold rush of air and snowflakes speeded the coagulation process as the red blood from my body dripped onto the remaining track of the ride.

Without realizing what had happened to me, I groggily gazed down at a two-by-four which had penetrated my left buttock, fastening it to my abdomen. I then passed out.

I can vividly recall leaving my body and looking over the medical experts in the operating room. I floated up to the ceiling and witnessed my helpless sixteen years old body being probed by experts who were feverishly working to save my life and repair as best they could, the impaled defenseless creature laid out before them. I took a walk for a long, long time and walked around amongst the clouds, oblivious to any pain.

After a while, I wandered back to see the operating room with the surgeons gathered round, doing their best to save my life. I made a conscious decision at that time to return to my body and get on with the pain and suffering.

It was only the beginning of years of carrying my war wounds around everywhere I went. My buttock is still scarred and my abdomen has a healed wound which is big enough to stick a fist into. The scar on my back is the same. The splinter and its parent missed my spine by a quarter of an inch.

Twenty seven years after the accident, I started feeling pain in the wound area of my back. After numerous tests and x-rays with no results, the decision was made to have exploratory surgery to see what was causing the pain. After consulting with a team of surgeons, they all seemed to be of one accord about the outcome of such a surgery. I could possibly die or be permanently paralyzed from having to operate so closely to my spine.

After considering the pros and cons of such a feat, I started to study available products to aid the surgeons in their daunting task. The Internet offered many natural cures for my predicament, and, after much thought and perusing, I came upon a theory which made sense.

I starting taking Mangosteen juice religiously. After applying Xango to my diet and religiously adhering to the suggestions of friends of Mangosteen, a miracle started taking shape. A splinter started rising to the surface near the exit wound.

When I had the dreaded exploratory surgery, the surgical team found a few small pieces of splinters. The wood had been soaked in creosote and had been preserved inside my body, waiting for the chance to decay and infect my body cavity. The success of the operation was doubtful, as the surgical team contemplated the pitfalls which could be encountered.

After surgery, my recovery was astonishing. I did not need any painkillers or antibiotics. The surgical team was astonished. I even had late night visitations from medical doctors in the hospital inquiring what I had been doing. I owe my miracle to Xango Mangosteen Juice.

My life has taken a turn for the best thanks to the support of my wonderful family and my friends in Xango!

Call Me for the rest of the story.

Today, I'm a walking miracle!

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