The Perfect Accident

Swinging, sliding, sledding and more
What a wonderful world to explore. 
Hanging, jumping, dashing too
Reaching across the monkey bars, flying through.
Each and every moment was perfect bliss
Until the next instant I reached and missed.
Suddenly my life flashed before my eyes.
As quickly fell to my demise  
Amidst all the excitement I could not see
What was right there in front of me.
The rain that had fallen the night before.
Had soaked the playground to its core.
Falling head first I started to panic.
So I threw my hands up in a manic.
A thud, a crack, and a pop too
After immediate shock the pain quickly grew.
The next thing I knew I woke to a bright light.
Surrounded by people dressed in white.
I looked down at my arm wrapped in a cast.
The surgery was swift and really fast.
The doll I carried the previous hour
Had been covered in dressings and was holding a flower.
With the severity of break I was forced to stay.
Within the hospital for over five days.
That opportunity allowed me to explore 
the hospital levels and various floors.
I met doctors and patients, nurses too
Who let me walk a day in their shoes.
The things I learned those few days
Felt like I was in an episode of Grey's.
The more I stayed, the more excited I became 
That this could one day be my game.
I dreamt of being a doctor, a nurse, and a therapist too
Until one day I most certainly knew.
From muscles to bones to so much more 
I had millions of possibilities to explore.
Yet, millions of people young and old
Were suffering from the same thing- or so I was told.
Their aches and pains were not going away.
They trudged along day by day.
From that I knew I could not stay still.
I had to help those injured and ill.
Physical therapy was the key.
To relieving their pain and setting them free.
I had found my calling in one long day.
All because I had wanted to play. 
But with that I knew I could not leave.
A broken arm was the best gift I have ever received.
Looking back now I always smile.
Making all the pain extremely worthwhile.
 
 

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