515 Explained

What is the deal with me and 515? I use it for every user name on any website I log onto. It's been a part of every personal email I've ever created. It's even my anniversary! (One of my groomsmen looked at me and just shook his head when he put that together; I smiled.)

I just happened to drive by the place where this all started today, so I thought it fitting to talk about it. Fleetwood Roller Rink in Chicago- I was 14 years old. My sisters were going roller skating. I didn't particularly care for skating, but I really didn't want to go to the grocery store with Mom, so I went skating.

When I fell, I heard my leg snap. Anyone who has broken his or her leg should know exactly what that sound is. Before they had a chance to x-ray, they were thinking I might have just strained it. But I knew; I heard it snap. I can't forget that sound.

So anyway, the break was oblique, and as my luck may have it, a regular cast that everyone else in the world gets would not be able to set the break. So I had to have surgery to have an external fixator put in. If you've ever seen those people with huge halos and pins holding up their head or neck, that's an external fixator. Mine wasn't a halo, it looked like a shock for your car and it had two pins just below my left knee, and two at my ankle. I guess I didn't understand it when they explained it to me before surgery, because I woke up, looked at it and wondered what the hell was this!

I'm getting ahead of myself. Surgery. The anesthesiologist did her thing and told me to count backwards from 10. I, being a cocky 14 year old, figured I could make it to zero, and then ask, "Now what?" Right around 6, I realized she was going to win. Damn. It wasn't her first day. I did make it to 4, as I remember, but it was very drawn out, like a drunk guy softly warning other golfers of a misfired teeshot. Right before I was totally out, I remember the doctor saying, "515 chef." And then someone saying back to him, "515 chef." My mind was strong enough to think, "Hey, what's that mean?" But my body didn't want to seem to cooperate. I was out.

I never did find out what that meant. I can't even be sure that's what they said. It is what I heard. If anyone reading this has a clue what it could mean, please tell me. Yes, I've Googled it. But the number 515 has stuck with me for the last 17 years, easily my favorite number, as my wife could have told you on the day she agreed to getting married on May 15th. Sorry, I didn't go grocery shopping with you, Mom.