No ifs ands or butts.

I've broken my tailbone three times.

The first time was when I was a kid learning to roller skate in the garage. I remember it hurt a lot, but I didn't want to make a big deal of it because I was afraid my parents might not let me skate anymore - and I loved skating. The second time was when I was a teenager and just doing the dumb things teenagers do. I don't think I told anyone about that fall because I was a teenager and some things you just didn't confess.

The last time was about seven years ago in a cave. I know what you're thinking... "Well that's what you get for going into caves. It's dangerous!" But it wasn't at all what you think.

For many years I had the privilege of volunteering my time doing restoration work in Carlsbad Caverns on three-day weekends. One of the projects I was involved with allowed me to lead restoration teams into the Dome Room in the caverns. The historically interesting thing about this room is the fact that in the 1920s it was used for weddings. The wedding party was lowered via guano mining buckets into the cave, and they would make their way to the area they called "The Chapel." The betrothed would then change into their finery, climb the hill into "The Chapel" and get married. Today we call it the Dome Room. I understand why they chose this room to stand before God and exchange vows. The Dome Room is one of the most beautiful, the gentlest, and one of the calmest areas in the cave. It feels like a very spiritual place, and many times I've sat in the stillness of the room wondering if it is the very place God chose to rest while he was creating the magnificent caverns. I love this room.

Anyway, once you reach the Dome Room, the terrain in the room isn't much different than being on the visitor trail. The main difference (to me anyway) is it doesn't have any paved trails. About seven years ago I was on my way into the Dome Room on the first day of our three day weekend for our first day of restoration work. I climbed up and into the room, stepped onto the smooth, flat part of the room to set down my pack and... down I went. Right onto my tailbone.

I didn't say anything out loud because what I was thinking wasn't very spiritual.

I was in so much pain I couldn't catch my breath. The room was spinning. I couldn't see. I couldn't stand up. I couldn't sit down. I couldn't move. And I didn't tell anyone I was in pain.

Eventually I was able to get up. I picked up my pack and spent the rest of the day on my knees cleaning formations. After the day's work we left the cave and went back to the cabin. Evenings in the cabin with the other cavers was "family time." We changed into clean clothes and fixed dinner. After dinner was always my favorite time. We'd sit around and tell caving stories and just enjoy each others company. It was then, and only after several rum and cokes - that I told anyone that I thought I had broken my tailbone. I laughed it off and said how amusing it was that in all my years of caving I sustained my worst injury in the easiest room ever. But no one knew how bad it really was. I was laughing on the outside, but on the inside I was screaming. The pain was nearly unbearable.

When the weekend was over we drove home. I rode sideways in the car because sitting was so painful, but as usual the next day I went back to work. I am sure all my co-workers thought I had a terrible case of hemorrhoids because I couldn't sit still or stay in one position very long. I didn't tell anyone what was wrong or how bad it hurt. I kept the pain to myself.

Some things never change.