It was December 24, 1985 and I was hyper and not feeling well. I remember running around the house. I refused to take my cough medicine and I was starting to aggrevate my mom. She was able to get me to calm down and I finally took my favorite grape cough medicine. I was curious to see what was going to be for dinner. I saw my sister helping my mom cook so I decided to join. I grabbed and pulled a chair from the kitchen table over the stove. I climbed up on the chair and was able to feel the steam from the boiling water. It was a huge pot of boiling water made for noodles for spaghetti. I watched the bubbles form and pop and the steam rise. I do not know what had happened next. I was told that I grabbed the pot and feel into the garbage can. I remember standing in my kitchen doorway and my dad ripping off my zip up pajama. The zipper had melted together. I then remember opening my eyes and seeing my moms face frantic, crying. I was wrapped in only a towel. My mom was crying hysterically. I blacked out.

I will never forget the smell of that burn unit. The huge metal tub I would bathe in in the middle of the burn unit. There were three beds plus mine. I stayed in the hospital for three months after I got burned. My family came and visited me daily. I will never forget that smell, the sounds and the looks from my family.

My mom blamed herself for years. I heard later on in life that she had turned around to go to the sink and thats when I fell. I call it an accident. I do not know all the details only what I vaugely remember. I try not to remember. I try to forget what happened but I am reminded on a daily, hourly, minute basis of what happened that night. The look on my moms face will never be erased.