Over the years I have taught many Family History classes at church. It was always odd to me that I would be called upon to do such a thing. I really have no great fondness for genealogy. But, this call keeps coming my way.
My first memory has me sitting on a conveyor belt of some sort and I am wearing almost nothing. On that belt is a needle that comes around over and over again and pokes me on the bottom. An odd memory, to say the least.
My Mom is convinced that my first memory outs me on an x-ray table and then later getting a shot in preparation for surgery. That may explain why to this day I am less than comfortable in an x-ray room. But, then again, who can be comfortable in there. Rarely does one go to an x-ray room for good news.
|Skeleton helps verify my fears.|