First Awareness

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I was starting to get nervous, there was something different about the voices around me. I was in an unfamiliar surround and I did not understand so I decided to cry. As soon as I did, a familiar voice started to console me. I had no idea what was going on.

Then there was another change, I was lying on my back. Everything was so dull and blurry. The voices continued to surround me for what seemed an extraordinary amount of time. The familiar voice was continuing for quite some time. And then I heard it...

"Bye Ben.... Goodbye." I began to cry again. "Its ok. Goodbye." Was the familiar voice saying that to me? Where am I going? What's going on? Will I be back?

I was on my back and now moving. I can see green shapes of what appears to be people hovering over me as I moved, lying on my back. Doors flung open and closed on either side of me. There were several voices I did not recognize. I finally stopped and I was blinded.

I began to cry.

The unfamiliar voices were calm and talking amongst themselves. I really couldn't see anything anymore because there was an extremely bright light staring down at me. I could only see outlines of people looking over me. I was more confused than anything so lay there quiet.

Then I heard it. A weird "whirring" noise. I shrieked.

Everybody started talking all the sudden and I kept screaming. I was confused and that noise was scaring the shit out of me.

The noise was getting louder and changing in pitch. It was effecting me somehow. I was terrified. So I kept screaming. The noise stopped abruptly and there was a lot of talking going on around me. The light was blinding me and everything seemed so blurry. The familiar voice came back.

"Its ok, Its ok. Relax Ben. I'm right here. Stop crying, its ok."

The noise began again.....

The Memory Ends Here.

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This my first memory. This is the furthest back I can recall. As I have recalled this memory with family members in the past, they assured me it was not a nightmare. It indeed happened. It happened more than once.

I was born with a couple problems. The first and biggest problem was I was not breathing at first. Obviously that problem was quickly fixed and have not have any brain damage due to prolonged lack of oxygen to my brain.

The second problem was found out later. I was born with hip dysplasia and it is not too uncommon. What that means is I was born with my leg joint growing outside of my hip joint. Therefore, I lived a lot of time in a cast that started at my upper chest and ended at my ankles. There was a nice little door in the back so that I could be cleaned.

What my first memory is... a cast changing. They were sawing off an old cast and later applying a new one. I was growing, therefore, the cast had to be changed periodically. I always found it strange that it was something I remembered but everything else that everyone talks about never comes to mind. I must have terrified me enough to burn it in my brain and sometimes even haunt me. I have spent years trying to piece the events together or even remember another similar event from a different time.

The stories that I'm told of me during that time does not ring anything to consciousness. Unable to crawl when I tried to because of my heavy weighted cast. Nothing. Doing endless push-ups because that was the only main movement I could do. Nothing. The only real proof that any of this really happened are word of mouth, photos and maybe some 8 mm film. The photos and film I do not have any access to. They exist but they are being held hostage by some selfish people. The last time I saw any photos of myself at that time is getting near 18 years now... and even that is starting to blur into a figment of my imagination.

The other piece of physical proof this happened is I remember the infamous highchair. I was an old large wooden highchair altered specifically for me. It had two semi-circles cut from either side of the chair to put my legs into. You see, I was put into the cast bow-legged, hence the two joints were forced together and forced to grow correctly. The last time I saw that chair was at a garage sale we had about 20 years ago.

I yearn to see the photos again so that I can put some of my thoughts to rest. I feel as though my memory is not serving me properly and word of mouth just does not cut it. Most of my first 10 years of my life is securely locked away in a large brass box. Only a couple have been stolen and given to me since. It is guarded by a selfish, angry and depressed soul hundreds of miles away from me. I should not have to beg for these things.