Being Shot [Part 2 – Final]

By Ed Rogers

The following account is a true story. I have used the real names of individuals who were with me during the time recounted. [Part 1 appeared on Saturday.]


Seven days later, I opened my eyes. A plastic oxygen tent covered the top half of my body. Through the plastic I saw my mother with two girls from my school that she was sneaking into my room because I wasn’t allowed to have visitors. I asked what she was doing there and she let out a holler for a nurse.
    I learned that I had been in a coma for seven days, and the doctor had told her I might never wake up. Two nurses came rushing in and started poking and prodding me. Then the pain hit. My entire mid-section cried out at once. I was given a shot of morphine and soon floated off on a cloud. The following week was like a dream. I got a shot of morphine every four hours but a shot’s effects wore off after three, and the fourth hour was hell.

Being Shot [Part 1 of 2]

By Ed Rogers

The following account is a true story. I have used the real names of individuals who were with me during the time recounted.


It was 1959 and I had just turned 16 years old that January. We were taking our mid-term finals in school. There was no need to be at school unless you had a test. I had finished my only test that morning and had the rest of the day off.
    As I was walking toward the street, some of my friends called out to me. It was Dudley Jobe, Arthur Cline, and Jack Kerney, who were all in Dud’s Nash Metropolitan. I ran to the car and Jack got into the back. The rule was that the shortest people rode in the back (leg space was limited back there).