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Ouch. If I'm 'off' for a while, it's because I had an accident today, they had to stitch my skull (without sedatives! Ok, not the actual skull, but the skin on top of it), and even worse, they had to cut off some of my hair (though it really doesn't show as much as I seem to believe. The blood is worse, and I'm not allowed to shower for two days, because of the injury.). Oh, and there's the minor concussion to nurture. So, the moral of the story is: never, EVER mess with fire escape starcases!

 

...DAMN I hope there'll be a cool scar to scare people with! ;)

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my condolences. I have something wrong with my eyes and I go around almost perpetually with dark wrap around sunglasses on, and my left eye has gotten so bad that I have to wear an eye patch. (let me tell you typing in the dark with sunglasses on and one eye from night can be a bit tricksy! thank goodness I paid attention in typing school in high school):cool:

*look my own personal lucas forums emodicon

I feel so special,*:D

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As long as we are sharing, I've fallen plenty of times.

Strangest thing, I've never injured myself too badly.

 

And that concidering I've hit my head atleast 4 times groving up. 2 times falling from a playthingy where you dangle upside down from, so right smack in the ground head first (yeah, I know, can't learn the first time :p ), once trying to jump over a concrete wall, trip, and right smack head first in the ground on asfalt, and once in a playing area in an amusement park where we got caught by a heavy rainshower so I didn't see exactly where I was running, which was right smack into a wooden board. :D

Hit the ground pretty good too on my way down. :D

 

I've even got hit by a car. Doctors called me rubber man, cause I had no broken legs, even after flying up in the air (so said my friends, but you know kids ;) ) and landing on the hood. :p

LOL, can still remember the face of the woman that was behind the wheels. :D It was pure fear in her eyes. :D

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Here is my story.

 

When I was a kid I jumped out of a 1 story window not seeing a wooden board on the floor with a rusted nail sticking up on each end of the board. I landed on my hands and knees. 1 naiil went through my left knee and other through my left hand..I mean through!

So I layed there on my back with a wooden board connected from my knee to my hand. I still remember the pain..

My friends had to yank it out and to make it worse it took a few trys. Carried me home and straight to Hospital.

Almost lost my leg in the operation cause thats when we found out I was alergic to pennisilen(sp). And this was in 1977 in Russia so the medicine was way outdated..no sedetives:)

Anyway, my leg and hand are both back to working order.

 

 

Sorry to hear about your accident and hope you feel better,soon.

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a friend of mine (true story no urband legend)

was working at a hotel, stayed late for overtime

got drunk and then started walking home,

a nearby hotel was doing renovations

they had a honking big hollow hole

dug for the foundations.

anyhow ther were no security guards

and or fences of any kind.

my friend walked out and then went Gandalf.

(luckily a hotel patron saw him and then did not see him

as he plunged into the hole, when the medics arrived

they found him resting between two long vertical steel

beems used to reinforce the concret, had he fallen

either way a bit more he would habve been impailled.

as it was he broke his hip bone.

they hom a choice between a quick set of pins which

would leave him limping or to stay flat in bed for almost a year.

he took the year, the guy loved to sleep anyhow

and what made the ordeal all worth while

was (A) he is fine now and he only walks with

a small limp and it only hurts a bit when the weather

gets bad, and (B) the cash settlement they had to pay him

for their gross negligence was quite enjoyable.:)

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Sharing the war stories huh? Okay, here's two for you.

 

1) I was fourteen years old, and rather psychotic mind you. I went out skeetchin'. The car turns onto the highway. Rather than let go, I hold on. Needless to say, the car gets off one exit down the highway and I just can't stop with it (I removed my brake, cocky bastard that I was). So anyway, I fly into a guardrail and broke my growth plate clean off my wrist. No real scars from it, but it's a fun story to tell.

 

2) The big scar story. Anyway, playing basketball, I was covering this guy. He ducked down and then jumped up. I was in coverage over him. His head hit my chin and there went a piece of my lip. It took 3 internal and five external stitches. My girlfriend couldn't deal with the fact that I had a fuzzy lip and left me. Never did heal right either, my lip is still slightly uneven.

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Okay, this might get a 'nastiest sharp thing' award. It was a saw.

 

I was sawing a very odd tree. It had kinda fallen over, but had survived nonetheless. In preperation for the treehouse that was going to be built on it (couldn't pass up on all that surface area), I was sawing off some knobbly bits.

 

Metal bounces off wood while under pressure, and the next stroke of the saw finds it's way into my left hand; the fleshy bit where the thumb joins up with the hand. Some blood and hyperventilation follow, and the next day my thumb is stained brown from the itty bitty tub of disinfectant the doc made made me put it in.

 

The sad thing is, we moved before getting the treehouse up...

 

Apart from that, just a coupla small puncture wounds. Sometime in the first few summers of my life I was crawling through tall grass and my hand - my wrist, to be exact - landed right on the sharp end of a dead and bloody massive bumblebee. Itty bitty scar, barely noticable.

 

Scared of needles? My BCG scar is the result of the school nurses (as in TWO) not realising the syringe was leaking until AFTER they'd stuck me with it. They decided to slide in a second needle RIGHT BESIDE THE FIRST ONE BEFORE REMOVING IT, so they wouldn't lose the vein again.

 

Bloody hurt.

 

Female dogs, the pair of 'em.

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When I was six, I almost bit my tongue off. Not the tip, some four inches from the tip. They had to put 24 stiches in it, and they had to do it twice. Why? At the first operation, they thought that twelve stiches would do, but after less than one day, the stiches loosened, and they had to do it all over again, this time with 24, to make sure that my tongue stuck for good. The severity of the second operation, together with the fact that I had to be anaesthesized twice in a row (wich can be lethal considering that I was a very small girl) meant that they had to fly in an expert from another hospital. Luckily, the scar is so far into my mouth that it can't be seen, bit it is one hell of a war story...

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