I know, that this has nothing to do with organising, but I am so proud of my 12 year old that I had to publish this here: It is rather long for a blog post, so it will come in three installments!
“Come on Thomas we’ll miss the plane! “ “Coming mum. “Slowly I got out of bed trying not to step on my ruined leg. “And don’t tell me you’re slow because of your leg!” At breakfast we had to eat quickly so we would get the last bits packed before flying to Austria. My twin brother helped me pack and get a new wrapping on my leg stump. I had been in a training circus for a few months. One of the practices went dreadfully as I tried to do a triple back flip with a twist. I landed on the edge of the gigantic trampoline that was normally only used when the actors were performing on stage. Only my leg had hit the trampoline and the springs had cut deeply into my paralyzed body. I woke up in hospital and came out a few months later.”We’re going!” “Okay!” I just need my IPod. After the accident I only needed to put on one shoe so I was always first to get in the car.
I have treated the accident like a part of me. It was hard to get used to being on crutches or in a wheelchair. But I had to get used to it. Half an hour later we were at the airport and another half hour later we were taking off. “Well that went faster than expected!” I said to my twin brother Bill. But he was already trying out the flight screens. About 24 hours later we were in Austria. It was colder than anything I had expected. My mum said we would go skiing for most of the holiday. I thought that was about the worst idea ever. When we got to our hut everyone wanted to go skiing strait away. Obviously mum didn’t allow it. But she said we would go tomorrow.
The next morning we borrowed some ski equipment but I didn’t get any. Then we went to a slightly steep hill where lots of 8 year olds were practicing skiing and snowboarding. There were lots of teachers there telling the young skiers what to do. A few hours later I was still there doing nothing. Later that day my brother offered his skis to me. But I said that I couldn’t ski but he pressed on. So I tried, my first try was a little wobbly but I quickly learnt how to balance enough to stay on the ski. But when we got home I was still covered in bruises.
The next day just after I started skiing an instructor came and started talking to me in Austrian. I made a signal to him that I couldn’t understand him. So he started talking in English but with a strong accent. He said “You are a good disabled skier, I could teach you how to ski” That is all I understood. The rest was gibberish to me. I asked my mum and she immediately asked how much it would cost for me to learn disabled skiing. Typical mum, always asking for a price. After some negotiating my mum and the ski instructor came up with a reasonable price.