VanSickle Outdoors 1 | 页面 14

Life of a Paniac

The story of my life is something that has had its ups and downs, its good and bad, the pretty and the ugly, and everything in between. I could write a story about my whole entire life up to this day, but that would probably end up taking way to long and I really don’t want to type all night. So, I think I will just tell you about some of my background information, major injuries, most of which are bloody, some of my child hood, and maybe some bonus information.

First thing first, I was born on November 13, 1996 in the West Union hospital. My mom is Kris Vansickle, formerly Kris Wurzer and my dad is Michael VanSickle. I have a younger, evil, brother named Wyatt and he is 14, I also have an older sister Montana who is 21. As a kid I grew up liking all of the outdoor channels. Hours upon hours I watched hunting and fishing shows, even as a toddler. I still remember to this day sitting in front of the TV eating a bowl of cereal and watching some crocodile hunter hosted by Steve Irwin. I also remember the tear filled day when he was killed. As I grew older the hunting and fishing shows turned into me actually hunting and fishing.

Once I casted that first line or shot that first bullet I was instantly hooked, no pun intended, I have been an outdoorsman ever since. Hours upon hours I have spent hunting and fishing and to go with all those hours a lot of dollars have also been spent on the outdoors. When I am bored I think of the outdoors, when I have nothing to do all I want to do is go fishing, when the weather is great I need to be in the woods. Without nature I do not think I could live a day.

Now that you’ve heard my obsession with the outdoors how about some stories about pain and blood. The first story I’ll tell you about is my 16 stiches in the bottom of my foot. When I was about 8 my family and I were on vacation in Clear Lake, the lake near by isn’t actually clear, but anyways we were swimming and all of a sudden I felt a dull ache in my foot. So, I wandered over to my dad and lifted my foot out of the water and showed him it. Right away he swooped me up from the water and ran to shore. As I was lying there on the beach I could feel a pain building in my foot, then my mom took off the towel and all I saw was a lot of blood and heard my mom ask, “Are those his tendons?” So, off to the hospital we went. Driving there they pain slowly died down, probably due to shock. We burst through the door and instantly get a room. The doctor lays me down on the table and recommends that both of my parents cont.> mdown. He then sticks a needle in my foot and cleans it out and then he pulls out the thread and starts sewing my foot together, This is where all of the screaming and crying began. Once I was done my Uncle, who was waiting for us in the waiting room, told us that my screaming could be heard outside the building and was freaking out the patients. I ended up getting 16 stiches in my foot and that was the end of that family vacation.