Damn, I just thought of a good one that just happened to me a few months ago. It was about 8:12, I was on my way to class (8:15). The door from the outside into the building's hallway isn't too heavy, but it's solid metal. I pull the door open really fast (as I always do) and started moving forward at the same time (as I always do), but I got the timing off and *WHAM* my face went smack into the side of the door. I hit it so hard I broke one of my front teeth. Still went to class and taught, but spent the rest of the morning at the dentist, getting it repaired. When I was about 11, I broke my other front tooth. We were living in Norway at the time, and all coke comes in glass bottles there. I was standing in the living room drinking a coke when my brother (about 7 at the time) went down to tie my shoes together, then stood up, hitting the bottle and breaking off one of my teeth. Then I fell over
When I was in fifth grade, my pencil got bumped from it's try up and the top of my slanted desk. It made its way down my desk toward my lap. As I flashed my hand to try and catch it, the pencil landed on it's eraser and the sharpened lead (or whatever it was) stuck into the palm of my hand-- still "impaled" when I pulled my hand up. I can still see where it went in-- a gray matter of residue.
Graphite and I think clay. I have a residue at the base of my index finger from a lead stab. It really wasn't a stupid childhood injury, though. It was more of a fight.
I can't pick 1 but I narrowed it down to 3: 1. Age 5: I'm riding my tricycle around our HUGE compoun d area thing we had in Baytown, because my dad owned an apartment complex. As I'm riding, I guess my bike tripped over some rocks and I fell over and when I looked at my knee, literally a TRIANGLE CUBE OF MEAT was stickin out of it hanging to a thread of skin. Not a pretty sight at all. Looked like chicken though.....or catfish.... 2.Age 10: I'm playing in this city basketball league in Katy. We're at practice and our team full of 5th graders are practicing against some 8th grade girls from the local Jr. High we practiced at, McDonald I think. So anyways, I go up for a rebound (I'm a beast on the boards) and I come down on some girls foot and tear a muscle in my foot. I'm out for 6-8 weeks and ever since then my foot has never been the same. My whole basketball career was ruined because of this. 3. Age 12: I'm throwin the trash out, taking it out to those big dumpsters. I'm carrying the bag slung over my shoulder, and then I toss it when I get to the dumpster. I come back home and lie on the couch, and as I get up I see a pool of blood under me. I turn and look on myself as to where it's comin from, and I see a huge tear in my pant leg, and a huge red stain. I take off my pants and I got this 2 inch gash in the backside of my knee. It bleeds like a mother til my mother comes and takes care of it. The funny thing being, I had NO IDEA that this was going on and i felt NO PAIN from it. Apparently there was broken glass in the trash bag and I guess it must'a caught me.
Well I was like 8 or 9 and I was playing basketball with my friend. We had found one of those mini aerobic trampolines and so we lowered the goal and tried to dunk. After a few unsuccessful attempts we decided that the trampoline needed to be raised a little bit for us to be able to reach the rim. After a few minutes of searching I noticed these two big stone tablet things that were being used to weigh down the goal. (We had one of those goals with a base that you are supposed to fill with water, but my family didn't do that because we were planning to move the goal to a new location soon.) So my brilliant 3rd grade education told me to take those tablets off the goal and put them under the trampoline to raise it a bit. Amazingly we carried them and set them in place without injury, but that was short lived. So I hopped on the trampoline, preparing to dunk on the now weightless goal, when a gust of wind blows the goal over. The backboard nails me in the head with the rim hitting my shoulder and i toppled to the ground with blood everywhere. It was pretty cool . I also have another one from when I was in first grade. I had just moved and my birthday party was like a week away. My mom had just informed me that one of my friends from my old neighborhood could come to my party and I was very happy. So I started jumping up and down and for no apparant reason I started messing with my dog who was trying to sleep. Well she wakes up, lunges at me, bites a chunk out of my lip, then lays back down. I start screaming with blood gushing everywhere and so I rush to the hospital. They put a butterfly patch on, which is like a bandaid but it does the same thing as stitches. All of my birthday pictures have me with that dang patch on.
The exact same thing happened to me except it was my right wrist. Luckily however I started working on my left hand more and my left handed jumper now looks better than my right. All I remember is looking down when it happened and seeing my wrist popping out of my skin and then I passed out. I had surgery done on it and the next day I was out dunking with my left.
16 years old skateboarding in downtown. I was doing a rail-slide and the board slip up from under me. Hit my sack. Felt not so good. Then my coolguy-ass proceeded to try the trick again with even more fervor. 2nd time, same thing happened but I hit the corner of my head on the corner of the front of the rail. I went into convulsions/seizures and couldn't stop moving my arms. It was weird.
Age 7: My friend and I go down this large steep hill on our bikes because how fast it gets. He would watch for cars, I'd go, then vice-versca. Well, at the bottom, there is a turn, and a 3-4 drop into some gravel and other stuff used for a cheap parking lot. I go riding down and my breaks(the pedal ones) decide to go out - no problem, I'll just turn at the bottom. MY HANDLE BARS TURN, THE WHEEL DOESN'T. I ended up with all sorts of cuts and scrapes and went home to wash them like nothing was wrong. From then on, I always tightened the handle bars up before riding.
Now that's hardcore! I was back to shoot my right handed jumpers after a week ( I was shooting better than before the accident ), with my left hand wrapped in a cast in a sling, but I was even tentative to leave my feet for a lay up, much less go for a dunk! But yeah, when you play every day, you start to have withdrawal when you're forced to go without it!
This thread is a horrible read cause of the vivid details. There's some funny stuff but it's grotesque.
Never hurt myself. Damn overprotective Jewish parents. EDIT: Well actually, I do remember two things, but they don't really qualify as 'serious', 'childhood', or 'injury'. First was in ATL when I swallowed a nickle mint and it wouldn't go down. Didn't hurt, but I was uncomfortable. I remembered seeing a couple co-eds crying for some unknown reason at the Meyerland Plaza a few weeks back. SO I decided to start crying. Nope didn't get any action. Second was when I was playing 'street' hockey (with the inflatable orange ball and plastic hockey stix) in school about 5 years ago. I decided to play defense and stand by the goalie because I wanted to talk to her because she was extremely beautiful. Well, I decide to go up a little more toward the play, and all of the sudden, I make a fool of myself by somehow tripping over the stick, putting ALL my weight on my wrist that was going straight for the ground. It hurt. Felt like I broke my wrist or arm, ulna (or radius?; damn Anatomy). So I went to my dad's office where one of the radiologists took X-Rays. I was fine, but I somehow damaged my radial nerve. I couldn't pick up anything for a good 2 weeks with that arm. Still feel embarassed.
Ah, memories. First one I was about 5 or 6 years old playing at a friends house around the block (in the 70's you could go around the block by yourself) I was in the back yard with some friends and a little wiener dog. So I start running for whatever reason and the dog starts to chase me. In texas some of the backyards have these huge meter's that , I don't know what the hell they're for, The meter reader comes to look at them. Anyway the Dog is chasing me trips me up and I go face first into the meter. One of the huge bolts catches me right above the eye and all hell breaks loose. Well, my mom's best friend lived next door so I run over to her house for some help, I have my hand over my eye with blood gushing through my fingers. I run into the ladies house and when she see's me she pukes and runs away. Turns out she thought my eyeball had fallen out, I ended up running home by myself. Got about 8 stiches right in the eyebrow, funny part was when they had to shave it and they told my mom it wouldnt grow back, she freaked. It did grow back just not where the scar is. Second one. I don't remember how old I was, seems like around the same time as the eye, maybe before. Anyway, I am at a pool, I remember my parents watching from behind a chain link fence and I am on the water slide. I am at the top part of the slide, sitting with my feet out in front of me, I guess I was getting ready to go because I was pushing my self back and forth kinda like those luge guys do, well I went a little to far the wrong direction and right off the back of the slide on to my head I guess. All I remember is waking up at the hospital. Well, this could go on for days. Funny how kids get hurt and somehow make it through. I have a 5 year old daughter and a 4 year old son now, I am just waiting for the catastrophe's that I faced to come around for them.
Only one really "stupid" one sticks out. I was about 7 or 8 and playing in my dad's shed, where he had a thin cardboard box hanging on the wall. Next to the wall, directly below the box, is my dad's push mower. I was playing pirate, stabbing the box with a homemade sword. Once, I had my back turned from the box, pretending a sneak attack was about to occur. As I swung around to counter attack, my bare foot caught a sharp edge on the mower, ripping open the top of the foot. It was an ugly tear, not a clean cut at all. I forget now how many stiches it took to close it. Dad was not pleased, and I was banned from his shed. I haven't thought about this incident in twenty years or more, so I just took a look at the scar. Not nearly as bad looking as I remember it.
I have been impaled. 7 years old, wrestling with my brother and chasing him around the couch trying to give him indian burns.....I decide to be clever and I jump over the couch to cut him off. I trip on the cushions and fall knees-first into my mom's sewing basket. Hurts like hell, there are needles in my knees, my mom yanks them out. So we thought. About two weeks later, I'm playing soccer. I usually played defense so I usually stay in one place, but this week my coach puts me a midi. I am running down the field, kicking the ball, when suddenly my knee has this horrible pain tear through it and I fall down. My knee starts to get very swollen very quickly. We go to the emergency room and one xray later, they find that a sewing needle is inside my knee under my kneecap. I spend my 8th birthday under the knife. I remember them singing happy birthday and putting the dark rubber mask on my face...nighty night. 1979 surgery, so I have a nice scar.
