Being active

In general, my heart condition did not restrict what I could do. As I mentioned before, I was not allowed to join the tennis team. Twice, as an adult, I challenged that view, by signing up for a mixed doubles tournament. Each time, I played extremely well in the first match. By the second round, I was totally shot. The doctors were right. I could not handle competitive tournament play.

As a child, I recall two restrictions. Before my family bought a one story house, we lived on the second floor in a garden apartment complex. I was not allowed to run up and down the stairs like other chidlren do. If I was playing downstairs, I had to stay there. Once I came upstairs, I could not go back.

One day, I was expecting a gift -- a portable radio. I kept coming to the door, calling upstairs, to find out if it had arrived. I was worried about what I would do when it finally came. Do I continue to play outside? Do I come upstairs to see my radio? It's odd. I have three children. I cannot imagine any of them, at four or five years of age, giving it a second thought, whether to run and gleefully see their gift. But I was worried. In the end, the radio arrived. My mother came downstairs and brought it to me.

My other childhood restriction was that I was not allowed to ride a bike. I was promised that I would get, after the operation, "the best bike in the world." My parents seemed to think that I could hurt myself braking the bike with my feet (for some reason, Goldbergs did not have bikes with hand brakes). At ten years old, I finally learned how to ride a bike.

At 12, I went with my brother on a bike ride. Suddenly, we were barreling downhill on a fairly steep grade. I was scared. I was scared of the speed, and I was more scared of pressing down on the brakes. Instead, I steered my bike into a mailbox. By the way, this was before children wore helmets when riding bikes.