roodboi said:

DC with L SUCKS!

JustErin said:

you've lost your fucking mind....

Jochem said:

I guess your possessions were more important to you than your body.

retina said:

NO, Getting hurt by my own mistakes was better than getting smacked by my father for breaking the glasses.

JustErin said:

Oh no! Now that you're a mother yourself you can probably imagine how bad your mum must have felt. And poor little you too.



That's happened to me too a few times actually, although the result wasn't as bad. A couple of times I couldn't even feel it because of the soothing effect of the water, so it was mostly seeing the blood that made me aware of it.



Oh, I guess you do the North American thing and use a sponge to do your dishes? Use a brush instead, then you never have to stick your hand in.

first




now i will go back and read the rest of the thread

emm said:

Thank you, emm.
Now that you've kissed it three times, it feels better.

I ran into a chainlink fence chasing a flyball, which I caught, but it ended up costing me 125 stitches on my face.

I was playing left field. I remember catching the ball on a dead run, left arm extended over my head, and thinking about how professional I looked. It WAS a helluva catch even without the fence part.

Just as I turned my head to slow down, I hit the fence. I was knocked out for a second or two. The first thing I did was to check if I had the ball. I did.

It was a co-ed softball game and there were two girls on base. The ball had been hit by a guy. He saw me on the ground and yelled to the girls, "He's hurt! Run! Run!"

I thought that was uncool so I tried to stand and throw the ball. I found out that I could only get to my knees, and I couldn't see anything. So I threw the ball in the direction I thought was home, but I actually threw it to right field. Then I went to the ground.

I knew I was hurt at that point and my first thought was I had knocked out some teeth. I ran my tongue over them and they were all there. Then I figured out I had cut my face, but I had no idea it was bad until the rightfielder came over, looked at me, and said, "Oh *)#%".

A friend took me to the emergency room and I owe this guy more than I can ever repay. He made sure a plastic surgeon sewed me up, and while that didn't eliminate scarring, it make it very hard to see.

125 stitches later and my face was literally put back together. I won't go into the gory details but I will say this: If your softball/baseball field has a chainlink fence and there's a plastic barrier over the top of it, you can thank RodeoSchro and his lawyers.

and four boobie hugs... don't forget those


i've never had stiches. ever.
ok well that's not true, when they pulled
my wisdom teeth they put disolving stiches in
so no biggie.

but now i'm getting all squeemish thinking about
those wounds that just keep spurting blood

retina said:

He was more mad at my Mom for not watching me. But she was behind the washer and dryer cleaning... I was a bit of a handful growing up!

Jochem said:

Come to think of it. You are right, my body wasn't very important at the time.

At that period in my life I was doing crazy games, like:
Jumping from one tree to another (and not stick the landing).
Playing chicken by jumping out of the way from oncoming bicycles at the very last moment (sometimes too late).
Climbing buildings.
Climbing inside washing machines.
Jumping ramps with bicycles.
and my favorite:
Getting inside the inner tube of a Tractor and rolling down the hill to the point where you got ejected because of the high speed.
I can go on and on...

Oh lord I can't even count them, I've had 6 operations!

I've had plenty of accidents that warranted stitches, but I've only had them once. At age 8, I was at a (horrific) daycare facility playing in the backyard, sitting atop a makeshift fort made of plywood with a broken slide hanging off the top. I crawled to the corner to jump off, and the fort shifted and dumped me off the top. When falling, I sliced the front of my left shin open on the flat top of a rusty nail sticking out of the roof of the fort. A LARGE slab of skin was hanging from the nail, and blood poured down my leg. I just stood there, in awe of the red waterfall. When I snapped out of it, I ran inside to tell the daycare provider's wife: "I think I hurt my leg". There was no pain throughout the entire experience, weirdly. It was over 100 stitches in three layers, because I sliced my leg open all the way to the bone. The scar is unfortunate.

The other unfortunates are: a scar under my right eyebrow from slipping in the bathtub and jabbing my eye into the faucet at age three. My mother butterflied it with two Band-Aids. You can only see the scar in good lighting.

I was holding our outdoor cat, Squeeze, and she sliced my entire nose open, top to bottom, all the way to the bone. My mom butterflied that one as well. You can only see the scar in the sunshine.

Falling off an illegal slide at the city park and not waking up until I was home in bed, six hours later at age six. The slide was off-limits and was to be taken down because it was too tall for current regulations and had no handrails on the top. I fell headfirst.

When I was twelve, I was getting off the Tilt-A-Whirl at the town fair and it rolled over my foot, crushing it so hard it broke the skin. It was broken but my stepmother didn't believe me. We had an awful relationship back then. Long story. It was never cared for properly, but I built a makeshift "cast shoe" for it and it healed alright. Got it X-rayed a few years ago for an ankle injury and there's a huge fused hairline fracture along the side.

I worked in a grocery store deli in high school with my best friend and we had motorized meat/cheese slicers with no hand-guards. I was slicing tomatoes and sliced my entire right palm open. It was disgusting--due to the circular blade, blood squirted all over the ceiling, the tomatoes, myself, and the cases full of fried chicken. I fainted and had to be rescucitated. No scar from that, even though it required surgery. I got fired two weeks later because my management failed to write out the safety paperwork in time for the deadline and they didn't want me to press charges.

It's okay, though. On my way out after they gave me my final paycheck, I jacked a case of vodka to "stick it to the man" and had a huge "Fuck (name of grocery store)" party.

Right forefinger - dog bite
Right forefinger AGAIN next to the other one - broken drinking glass
Across my belly, 18 cm:s or almost 7" - ruptured spleen, collapsed lung
Both thighs - REALLY deep scratches from a cat
Knee - tomboy shit
Under my chin, when I was about six yo I think - I was standing on a towel in the bathroom having being bathed and mum asked "are you done with that?" meaning the towel. I said "no, not yet" and mum proceeded to yank the towel from under my feet. Her hearing never was too good.

hokie1 said:

Me too, Pepsi rox!

retina said:

Sorry to hear about your knee - ouch!

I had surgery in my abdominal area 6 years ago, and I have a scar from my belly button down to my pubic bone. I also have a scar around the same area where a drain was put in (part of the same surgery). It's healed up nicely now, and the scar is not easy to see anymore. But when the scar was healing, every time I wore jeans, the scar would hurt and/or get itchy from the material rubbing on it.

INSATIABLE said:

Oh no!

"I think I hurt my leg"... Poor little thing!




Not sure what "butterflied" means, but apparently it did the job. Kind of. Seems very careless to not take those kind of injuries seriously enough to see a doctor though.



Gosh, that shows you how regulations can sometimes be there for a real purpose, doesn't it? Poor you.



A makeshift cast shoe... Oh Jana, I wish I could go back in time and be your guardian angel during your childhood. No kid should have to endure things like these.



The American law suit culture has such extreme side effects sometimes.

Teacher said:

How did that happen?





A combination of and

psychodelicide said:

Thank you!

It's really not too bad though. It's mostly annoying.



Awww. Surgery scars are terrible. They're more "precision-made" than a random wound of course, but at the same time they're a constant reminder of the surgery and the symptoms leading up to it. Glad it's healed well though.

retina said:

Thanks, me too. Actually, I was surprised at how little pain I had post-surgery. That was a concern I had, but everything turned out okay.

retina said:

Aww. Thank you. It was actually quite funny. I was more worried about making sure my dad made it to the hospital in time to see them stitch my leg up, because I thought he'd think it was cool. I was upset when I found out he got there RIGHT after we left. I was all by myself in the room and it sucked.

But I got McDonald's out of it, so that made my day. And my friend Callie let me spend the night at her house and let me do wheelies in her wheelchair!




Again...I was fine. At the time, I was upset, but I was tough as a teenager. Tougher than I am now.


Yeah, that one really chapped my ass. I LOVED working with my friend; we had a BLAST there! We pretended we were in "Cocktail" and were constantly breaking syrup bottles because she couldn't throw or catch to save her own life. One time, she was throwing me a half-sliced ham to stick in the cold case, unfortunately throwing it too far, and it ended up slapping the back of the head of a customer. Great memories.

retina said:

YEEOWTCH! Hopefully you had enough adrenaline flowing for it not to hurt like hell! Boy, that would feel odd to be stitched sans anaesthesia.



UGH. Good for you. I keep putting mine off--not smart.

INSATIABLE said:

What an incredible spirit... I would have been devastated if I'd been your parent though. Consumed by guilt over having been negligent.




Well you seem pretty tough now as well. But I guess maybe you just have a big mouth.

INSATIABLE said:

You've basically been mangled and ripped apart in a thousand different ways during your life and you think getting a few stitches without being drugged sounds bad? I feel embarrassed having started a thread about my little incident considering what some of you've guys been through.



Now those stitches were actually quite unpleasant, not only because I had to go back and remove more skin in the same place where they'd already been cutting me, but because of knowing the reason for the cutting. It didn't exactly help that the doctor was totally cold-hearted and didn't care to handle things in a good psychological way either. I thought I was dying there for a while. And because of that experience I sometimes really freak out when I find something suspicious-looking on my skin these days, even though it's almost certainly nothing.

I've had lots of stitches, but one memorable time was when I was pretty young I fell and hit my ear on an iron gate.

I got stitches inside my ear, and at some point I got a mosquito or a fly stuck in them.

retina said:

Well yeah, I think she just wanted my chocolate bar

But I wanted to make sure it was stitched up properly.,.

NDRU said:[quote]I've had lots of stitches, but one memorable time was when I was pretty young I fell and hit my ear on an iron gate.

I got stitches inside my ear, and at some point I got a mosquito or a fly stuck in them.[/quote]

retina said:

My dad was definitely far from negligent, though he likely felt that way. He was a truck driver and this probably happened around '90, so the terminal had no direct way of reaching him save for leaving messages at his next delivery spot, which was in San Francisco at the time. By the time he got the message and rushed up to the hospital, we had just left. I feel so bad for how much that must have hurt him.

He probably feels negligent for my time spent at that daycare facility in its entirety, which again, isn't his fault in any way for not knowing how bad it was. They exercised threats of violence on all of us kids to make sure we never told our parents. We'd go without food most of the time and (as you could see above) we had dangerous playing conditions. My friend's wheelchair tires were constantly punctured because of garden tools and nails/screws strewn about in walkways.


Bingo.

I've had stitches in my head twice. Once when I was 2, once when I was 17. I have scars on my head. I will never be able to shave it bald. Not that I'd want to anyway, but still.