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Sivle by Jerry Haas
I was given a
second chance and just like the King I blew it, but instead of being able to go
into hiding I was stuck in a wheelchair. I
finally had to admit that it was the end for me. “It’s
broken.” Dr. Sonny West stated as I sat in my bed. “But
doctor it can’t be I am supposed to be on stage in Las Vegas doing my Elvis
show next week.” “I am sorry, but I warned you about taking those
bone builder drugs. I told you that
it would do nothing but hurt you and I am afraid that now you will pay the
price. You just as well give up your act.” I replied, “You can’t be serious.
Dammit, this is what I have been doing the last five years and I am good
…. The King did drugs and he is still alive.” “Come on now Sivle we know the King is dead,” Doc
Sonny West responded. “Like hell, he is!
The King is still out there and anybody that doesn’t believe me bring
em in and and I will have words with them.” “Easy now, getting all worked up is not going to
help you heal. Why don’t you relax and read the paper?” “I’ll prove you wrong doc, I swear on a fried
peanut butter and banana sandwich I will.” “I really don’t think so.” Doc Sonny West answers, while leaving the room. “Jesus, look at this! The press is all over me.
Look at the front page.” The
front page boldly stated, “Top rated Elvis look a like in hospital. “I’ll
be back! I swear I will make the
biggest return to stage ever known.” I scowled as I swing my legs out of bed
to try a test walk. “Whoa, buddy!
Get back into bed,” said the nurse as she walked through the door. “You
are not to be out of bed until your busted hip is better. Been shaking them hips way too much,” the nurse said
between smacks of her bubble gum. “Honey, why don’t you just go get me a fried
peanut butter and banana sandwich and make it quick, I am hungry.
Also a pound of Crispy bacon,” I shouted out as the door was being
shut. “I need to get out of here. I need to be in Vegas where I am loved and wanted. Not here in this Memphis Memorial Hospital.” As I sat in that hospital bed, all I could think about were the bright lights of Vegas. I must have drifted off to sleep, drowsy from all of the painkillers. The next thing I knew it was the next day. “All right Sivle, time for physical therapy,” Mr.
Sanders said as he strolled through the door. “Mr. Sanders, just one question, do you think that
I have a fighting chance at a recovering? I
need to know. I am desperately
wanted back on stage in Vegas.”
“Well, Sivle this pound of bacon stuff won’t help any (as he throws
it in the garbage) also these fried sandwiches will not help you a bit. What you need is lots of calcium and nutritious foods that
will help build your bones and help you get the hell out of here a lot quicker.
I am going to warn ya,” Mr. Sanders says, “ It is going to be tough
and rough road ahead. Like being in
hell. You have your choice; you can
either tough it out and fight for it, or you can forget it.
It is your choice.” “Lets do it,” I replied. The
first day of physical therapy was murder. I
couldn’t believe how out of shape I was.
Lifting the 10-pound dumbbell was harder then anything else.
I asked why I couldn’t just get up and start walking.
Mr. Sanders said that I need to build up my upper body strength so that I
can hold myself up on the crossbars. After 2 weeks of intense physical training I was
finally allowed to get up on my feet.
The pain and misery that swept throughout my body was unbelievable.
But yet I was on my feet and on the road to being the Elvis entertainer
that I once was.
I had spent a total of about 6 weeks in the hospital just trying to learn
how to walk again. After about 6
more months, I was back on stage entertaining and bringing happiness to the
people.
It was the second performance of the night.
The lights were bright. The
crowd was huge and loud. Yet for
some reason I didn’t feel right. My
waist was killing me. Ladies and Gentlemen, “ELVIS,” the guy over the
loud speaker hollered. That was my
cue to go on stage as an Elvis impersonator.
Against my better judgment I went on.
It was the greatest show that I had ever done. Until the last song of the night, “Jail House Rock. ” I
was jumping and swinging my hips. All
of a sudden I fell and it was like the lower half of my body went numb.
I couldn’t feel my legs. “Quick, call an ambulance!” I heard someone yell.
Then I feel passed out.
I woke up in the hospital
just as Doc. Sonny West was entering the room. “Well Sivle, you did it this time.
I warned you about taking those bone builder drugs and they have finally
taken their toll on your body. I
hate to tell you this, but this time when you dislocated your hip you fell and
landed on the other side of your body.” Doc.
Sonny West when to say, “The fall crushed all the vertebrae in the lower half
of your body and crushed all of your nerves.
This means there are no third chances just be glad that you are still
alive.”
So now, here I sit in this wheelchair.
I don’t do Elvis anymore but I have opened a school for young inspiring
people who want to be just like the King. I
also teach the “DARE” program to 6th graders in my hometown. Yea
I miss it. Sometimes I wish I was
still doing Elvis impersonator shows, but now I am just glad to be alive. |