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Nambroth wrote:
I’m boring. When I was 5 or 6 I was jumping on a mattress that was on the floor, fell 2 feet and broke my arm.
Oh, you just remind me of something.. when I was one or two I tried to show off for a girl… Yeah, I started young. I stacked the cushions up from the couch, climbed up, and … fell backwards and split my head on the coffee table.
Traumatic enough to remember the entire event to this day.
I was cooking, making dinner for myself and preparing for the next day. I had just survived the first day of the new highschool exit exams(and a host of pannic atacks). As I swung around to put a pot in the sink the edge of my foot and toes smashed into the corner of the cabnet.
That was painful enough. I leaned over and held my foot. A little girl I was baby sitting named Sidney, she was 5, came into the kitchen and pointed at the red spots on the floor,” is that blood.”” YES! go get a paper towl, please,” I responded to her. She quite calmly walked out into my tv room and yelled,” AUSTIN! KAALEE WANTS YOU!” (Austin is her older brother. he is 10)
So Austin comes in and says,” yes,…” then looks at the blood drops on the floor,” *gulp* is..that…b..b…blood?” When i siad yes, the poor kid gagged and looked about to pass out. But he DID get me a paper towl and got my mom to come over.
His sister has a stomach of iron, while poor austin had to run out of the kitchen because he realy was going to throw up at the sight of my bloody toe.
Not really an “injury” but 4 of my toe nails fell off in boot camp because my toes were constantly being smashed into the toe of my boots…They turned all black and blue and then just fell off…. 😯
Oh, and my mom gave me a hickey on my eyelid….Just don’t ask…..
Ok… where to start?
At about 2 1/2 I stubbed my big toe so hard I ripped a flap of skin right off. Sucked cause it was attached on the bottom still, and hurt like hell when dad had to cut it the rest of the way off.
At 3, had fuel spilled on my groin whe the nozzle decided to jump out of our car as we were fueling it.
At 4 1/2, tripped over a root and landed on a sprinkler head, splitting my chin open. Was fine with the cleaning, until they placed ther sterile blue dressing with the hole over my chin. Freaked out as I couldn’t see, and they started giving the shots for numbing it. My mom told them to uncover my eyes and tell me what was going on. After that I was fine. I got a choice of popsickle’s, and got an orange one with 2 bones in it. You know, the 2 stick ones you can split?
The Saturday night before Mother’s Day in the 3rd grade, I got out of the bath to promptly find, what I thought was a broken needle with the side of my foot towards the ball of my little toe. There was a little red spot, that was sore but, I was ok, thought I had all of the needle………. So at 4:30 in the morning on Mother’s Day, I crawl into my parents room because my foot is now swollen to the size of a soft ball. we go to emergency, and have an x-ray taken showing the the rest of the needle is still in there, almost sticking into my pinky bone. Worst part of that one was lying on my stomach as they worked on it, and the fact that no matter how muched they tried to numb it, they couldn’t numb it deep enough.
And finally…
At the age of 14, my buddy and I were delevering our community newsletter. Riding our skateboards as we went along. We each had brought an apple to have on our route. I had brought a small Swiss Army knife that had been given to me for my Bar Mitzvah by a Marine friend of ours. He had warned me the he had sharpened it. While taking that into consideration, I began to spiral peal and eat the apple. I got to a bruised portion and slipped, cutting my thumb and palm at the wrist. My buddy and I freaked as we sa a clean cut through the skin, knicking the palmar aponeurosis tendon. Then the blood began to come. He peeled off his shirt, and we began to put pressure on it. I sterted to go into shock , and wanted to go home, which was on the other side of the community. Fortunately, a family he knew from the swim team lived across the street from where we were, and he called our folks. 16 stitches later, (12 external, 4 internal) I got to spend the beginning of my summer vacation keeping my hand dry and out of the water at the pool and shower. Now this scar is pretty gnarly.
😈 😕
After reading all this, don’t you think it’s a wonder we’re still alive???
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http://www.sarahjestin.com/feedbacklists.htmWhen I was about two or so, we had these big cardboard building blocks… they were large enough and sturdy enough that I could make a balance beam out of them and walk across it. I did so, slipped, and hit the coffee table. There is still a scar on my bottom lip… my parents decided it wasn’t big enough to need stitches for, although they did take me to the ER. I’m rather fond of my scar.
My brother… well. We have this little satyr/gargoyle garden statue. It has really spiky hair. One day, while running out the door, my brother fell on the satyr’s hair and punched a hole in his head. Funny thing is, when my parents took him to the doctor, he couldn’t stop laughing while they cleaned out the wound. What a dork. 😆
I’m just too much of a Clutz, My knees, face, and balls of my hands are nothing but pure scar tissue, I’ve skinned them out that bad and often. Though both happily and disapointedly, most of it doesn’t look like actual scar. And none of it resulted in stitches or official broken bones. And by way of car accident’s my Mom’s a professional driver, and her accident’s usually occur when I’m in the car(and usually sleeping :?)Also my Mom was rather afraid (as a working single mother in the 80’s) to bring me to the Dr. for check-ups far less emergency’s because she was terrified they’d think she was abusing me. The excuse “I just walked into a Wall (Doorknob)” was a reality not a cover-up!! 😯 & still is.
The 2 most blatently notable events were when I hit the corner of my Captains bed with my little Toe, and totally crushed it and tore off half of it down to the bone. Never went to the Dr. and never lost the nail either. By that point I had done that much damage to my self I knew how to look after it myself, and so did my mom. 😯
The other time that’s rather notable I probably should have damaged myself some how if not killed myself. In the town I grew up in there’s alot of snow in winter (Think Territories for the Canadians and Alaska for the American’s, and add major mountains with the world’s coldest ocean current) so our Fire hydrant’s have to have these giant pipes(larger in girth than the firehydrant itself) that come up out of the ground to help them get air down in the Winter, and sign posts to make sure that when they’re buried the Firemen(and people who dig them out) know where to look for them. Well this makes a nice neat little Triangle of steel. The sign post is the “softest” and the pipe is much thicker and more solid than the firehydrant but doesn’t have the pointy bits. Well I was riding my bike and went to take what I thought was a gentle slope up off the road (intersection) I had just crossed, but instead turned out to be a 2 foot hig abrupt stop due to concrete disintegration, which was masked by the grass which had been both thick enough and mowed on just such an angle to keep you from seeing that there was this abrupt stop. If I had known this I would have hopped the curb a half foot away and only had to deal with lifting my bike up 2/3inces, instead of aiming for the “ramp” that did not exist. Needless to say I flipped off my bike, and the Firehydrant set up proceeded to play Pin-Ball with my head, all the way down to the ground. The back of my skull would bounce off the signpost probably once for every 2 knocks off of both the Hydrant and pipe. I still feel the Hydrant hose cap smashing into my temple. When my head finished and was laying against the ground I wondered how I was going to get my head out of this space, how bad a headache I was probably going to have, and how badly damaged was my bikes front tire. When I got myself out I barely had a headache, and my neck wasn’t really stiff, and the bike was perfectly fine aswell. The next day I still wasn’t in any pain. It’s rather surprising when you consider the fact that My head hit a Firehydrant and I hadn’t been wearing a helmet.
Got a couple other I should have died stories too, but those saves are accreditied to what for lack of a better term “Supernatural” forces.
The first happened to my sister. She was moving a small organ for her church and was loading it into a car when it fell on her hand breaking a finger. So she yelled and jerked back. The organ fell out of the car onto her foot and broke two toes!
This one was just embarassing. I was working at a bull sale when a bull stepped on my foot and just stood there. God, it hurt. I finally, finally got him to move and jumped up and down calling the bull every four letter word I knew and cursing his ancestry back four generations. A very nice gentleman who had seen and heard all this asked if I was ok. I said I was – my foot was probably just bruised since I was wearing work boots. The man said “great – I’m sorry my bull stepped on you.” 😯 When I think what I called that bull… 😳 I limped for a week – my foot was all black and blue.
I rather like my scars now, but here’s how I got ’em:
1) 2-3 weeks before 2nd grade, I was running in a new friend’s backyard and must’ve tripped or something… but I went flying face first into the corner of the brick by their door. I don’t know if I would’ve gotten stitches because my parents didn’t bother taking me anywhere. But I’m missing 1/3 of my right eyebrow because of it.
2) In the 5th grade my face had an intimate meeting with gravel. I was riding my bike on base, on this little gravel hill that ran along side the road. Every so often, there was a dip, and they were fun to ride through… but I got to one that was a little two short, my front tire caught, I flipped over the handlebars… and landed face first on gravel, with 102 lbs of me bearing down as I slid. The colonel’s wife who called for an ambulance probably thought a kid got hit by a car or something, with how I screamed. No stiches, but they did call in a plastic surgeon to see if he’d need to repair the hole in my nostril (it healed fine).
I dunno what was worse though. The actual accident, or them using a wire scrub brush on my newly raw face to get the gravel out.
My face is proof of an active childhood. There’s more than a dozen noticeable scars on the right side, and most aren’t coverable with makeup.
Hmm.. less exciting… I tore the meniscus in my knee during softball (made it worse by playing again about 2 weeks later), twisted my ankle during recess soccer… but nothing broken yet! *knocks on wood* We’ll see if that holds true for long, playing rollerderby and all… 🙄
My turn I guess.
When I was about 7 or 8 I was poggo sticking in the gargage, it was raining and the garage was the only place I could. There was a small puddle of water in there, and I landed on it. The Poggo stick went flying out from under me and I landed on my face. Broke my front tooth, it was one of my permanent teeth. Other than that, I was fine, my Mom mourned the tooth.
It now has a veneer on it, and you would never know it was ever broken, but I’ve got pics of me when I was 9 thru 12 where the break was evident in every school pic.
When I was 9, I was skating down the sidewalk…you know how when you hit those parts where someone is using gravel or bark you kinda just step around it on your skates. Well I could do this just fine when there were a bunch of rocks, but I remember this clearly, there was only ONE rock, and I thought, I’ll miss that. Nope! Hit it dead on and came to a crashing halt, right on my left wrist and broke it.
My 7 year old brother is still my hero of that day. We were latchkey kids, and he is the one who put my arm in the kitchen sink in cold water, and called Mom at work and told her he thought it might be broken and she needed to come home. Took xrays, they declared it badly sprained and splinted it, next day, called back, “Uh, sorry, we were wrong, it’s broken, bring her in for a cast.
When I was about 12 I stepped on something sharp, still don’t know what it was, probably glass. Cut my foot deeply enough that I ended up with 8 stitches. Here’s the funny part…while I was getting it numbed, I swear numbing hurts more than just stitching it would, my Dad passed out, which freaked me out, cause Dad is usually the pillar of strength.
Took a bad fall of my mare at full gallop, she took it in her head to run, and I lost a stirup and balance, she wouldn’t rein in, and my balance went out the window completely, THUMP! Oh man, my body was so afraid it was damaged it would not let me move anything, it felt like I was lifting a house just to move my arm. Needless to say, jumping up to catch Cricket was out. She saw I was moving okay, and then trotted the 2 miles back home without me. I cried all the way back, feeling bruised, hurt and very betrayed. Some well meaning idiot had fed her, but left all her tack on her when I got there. Didn’t even look for me, or wonder why Cricket was there, alone, untied, in her tack, OUTSIDE her pen.
I’ve had other things happen in my life, got tossed off a stallion once, had two choices, aim for the fence or choose the ground, since it was a small arena and Tony was freaking out, I chose the fence, bruised my sternum pretty good, but at least I wasn’t trampled or kicked.
Funny incidents where I wasn’t hurt, outside of my ego was when I decided to ride Cricket down to the barn to fetch her her dinner without any means of steering her, she walked under the tree where she fit fine, but a rider didn’t. I got swept off into the mud. Sad thing was, I had just showered and changed into clean clothes, had to start all over.
I guess that is it for now, if I think of any more, I’ll add to this.
Kyrin
Alright, I got one. It didn’t happen to me (I’m pretty boring…) but to my closest guy friend when we were in middle school.
Me and Spencer were over at another friend’s house playing on her trampoline when he gave an exceptionally high jump, kicked his legs a little too hard, and his pants came down. While Brittney and I were laughing at him her little yappy dog jumped up on the trampoline and grabbed his pants, which were now around his ankles, and made him fall over. We laughed harder. This is where it gets good.
A chipmunk falls out of the tree over the trampoline and nails the poor kid right in the head. Britt’s big, buff dog comes flying onto the trampoline after it and slams into the parties already up there. Spencer (with his pants down), the little yappy dog, and the big buff dog all go tumbling off the trampoline, over the fence beside the trampoline, and into the swimming pool directly next to the fence.
The little dog got stitches, Spence had scratches like no other and a big ol’ bloody nose. The big dog limped away wet but intact. We never found the chipmunk. I think our parents wanted to get that on tape for America’s Funniest Home Videos… It was one of those freak things that’ll never happen again.
No broken bones or stitches for me, yet.. *knocks on wood*
I remember splitting my lips open when I fell off the top bunk bed when I was 7.
When I lived up in Annapolis, I stepped on a large piece of glass in the garden my family had on the naval base. I can certainly say the trip to DC wasn’t as fun that following week…stupid crutches were so uncomfortable.
Annnnd in high school I tripped while going up the bleachers after getting an agility award in PE, so I bruised my ribs. Haha, oh the irony in that day.I know something’s coming one day, I can feel it! I’m running on some good luck I suppose. :’
Some of the dumber things that’ve happened to me…
when I was ten, I was playing quitely in my mom’s office with my brother, just doing… crafty things. I was hogging the teal craft paper and when I refused to share, my little bro stabbed me in the leg with his scissors.
Something else stupid that happened involving him! On the night of his 15th birthday, he went through our basement and found a broken quiver of arrows and decided that he wanted to sharpen them… so he took them into the kitchen and took out a meat cleaver and whittled towards himself -___- he cut his thumb off and spent the next two weeks in hospital.
Most of mine are head injuries, and one other scar that no one else of my generation will ever have..
When I was 4-5, we had a tetherball ‘court’ in our yard and my brother (6 years older) enjoyed hitting that tetherball with his baseball bat. Dummy. Well, I was walking by.. too closely… and caught the backswing square between the eyes. Ouch. Now I have a little scar, and bit of broken eye socket that induces headaches once in a while. No stitches, I insisted. Imagine everyones look when I said “he hit me with a bat.” Hah 😯
And in our house, we had carpet in the living room that had a fold easy to trip on in a spot right by our coffee table. Needless to say, I have a nice triangle scar in the center of my forehead that will never go away. 😆
More recently, when I was 16ish, I was playing indoor soccer and got glass-wall to the back of my head. Bled like mad, but again refused stitches; just braided my hair real tightly together. No one will ever see it.
And the other, most interesting one.. is a “Wringer Scar“. I was 5-6 and very helpful. So I wanted to help my mom finish doing laundry on our old old machine that actually pressed the laundry together to squeeze the water out. So, I forgot to let go and my left arm went through. Never broke skin, but it has tissue damage. The funnier thing is my mom, upon hearing my scream, slipped out the door and cut open her thumb. I was more concerned with that than me. 🙂 Ah.. Good times.
~Safyre
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