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Pain and suffering

In the spirit of Christmas, I thought I would give a gift to the readers of Wizbang -- a chance to laugh at me as I once again publicly humiliated myself.

I recently had an e-mail exchange with someone that put me in mind of an incident when I was a child. The town square of Lebanon, New Hampshire, where I was born, has a big wrought-iron fence around it. I was about four or so when I managed to get my head caught in between two bars and the fire department had to come and pry me out. Luckily, the fire station is adjacent to the park. The only permanent damage was some busted cartilege in my left ear -- it's very slightly deformed. I only wish it was on the top, so I could go for the cool Vulcan/Elvish look, but it's on the side.

I wouldn't say I'm accident-prone, but I seem to injure myself in rather unusual fashions. I've never broken a single bone (yet -- knock on wood), but most of my trips to the doctor or the hospital result in being told "that's the first time I've heard of that happening."

To wit:

1) When I was 13 months old, I managed to pull a cup of boiling water down on myself, burning my left arm. I learned to walk in a cast, but still managed to come out of it with just a minor scar (and still left-handed).

2) I was about 3 or so when, while visiting some neighbors, I crawled under a bed and caught my face on a bedspring. I still have a tiny scar under one eye.

3) While playing Little League baseball, I was playing first during a practice. My friend was batting, and I told him to hit it to me. He did, and I caught it with my left eye. My mother rushed me to the ER, where they spent half an hour picking fragments of my glasses out of my eyeball. (I'm still left-eye dominant, and my vision is slightly better on that side.)

4) When I was about 15 or so, I had a couple of friends over. We were horsing around in the kitchen, and I showed off by sticking my hand in a drawer behind my back. I managed to shove a meat probe right between my index and middle fingers, impaling myself about an inch or so. I still recall the lovely arc of blood spurting out of my hand as I held it up, wondering what stung.

5) Several years ago I was tired and flopped rather forcefully on to my bed. A bedspring broke loose and drove itself up through the mattress pad, fitted sheet, my sweatpants, my shorts, and into my derriere. I refer to the incident as my "posturepedically-perforated posterior."

6) A couple months ago I visited a bank which had a set of guide railings about 6" long and 34" off the ground (which, on me, is a little below waist height) -- kind of a brass croquet wicket on steroids. I turned around quickly to leave without noticing the end post and... well, I'm sure you can figure out the rest. I'm amazed I managed to stay standing, let alone walk out and return to work.


Comments (9)

Wow. I felt pain just readi... (Below threshold)

Wow. I felt pain just reading that.

We learn from our mistakes.... (Below threshold)

We learn from our mistakes.
Mistakes are indeed painful.
Pain is the road to wisdom.

No wonder you are indeed so wise.

Me, I'm just a pain in the derriere.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

<a href="http://drysocket.b... (Below threshold)


Speaking of mistakes, forgot to add the link.

Do you want a challenge? I ... (Below threshold)

Do you want a challenge? I have some really great goodies where I am definitely considered a klutz.
And I still am.

You - well, you're funny but I have you beat if I'm allowed to challenge this piece. When I first started reading it and you said "lefty" in my head, I said "Well that explains it!" I'm a righty but I think I could beat you in the klutz area.


I'm a clutz. The joke has a... (Below threshold)

I'm a clutz. The joke has always been that it is a good thing my name is not Grace since I have none!

You made me feel a little bit better ...

I may notbe that klutzy, bu... (Below threshold)

I may notbe that klutzy, but I'll throw my brother into the mix.

1. At an age of about 3, he pulled a coffoe down on himself, burning himself.

2. At about the same time he went down one floor int he laundry chute. It was a good thing the basket was there, or he would have ended up craking his skull on the concrete floor.

3. He got hit in the head by a metal swing a year or 2 later. I had to take him hime, and he ended up with stitches in his head.

4. A few years later he was pulled out of the deep end of the nieghbors pool.

5. Sliced his arm with an exacto knife while trying to remove the photo from the top of a box out for the trash. More stiches.

6. Broke his arm tripping over home plate to win a softball game in gym class.

7. Motorcycle accident 1. Chewed up his face some, and caused him to do badly enough in midterms that he left college for years.

8. Motorsycle accident 2. Broke his leg in three places, requiring a rod to fix it.

Those are the ones I know of. There may be more.

We need to take up a collec... (Below threshold)

We need to take up a collection to get you some chain mail clothing.

Man, that post was painful to read.

I will add mine.

I broke my arm mowing my yard! I was mowing the bit of grass that leads down to the paved alley way and slipped and fell onto the concrete and CRACK. I remember what was on my mind at that time was that I hoped no-one had seen me fall.


Your story about catching a... (Below threshold)

Your story about catching a ball with your eye reminded me of a certain incident from my past.

When I was 17, I had a decorative item that was stuck to my window with a suction cup and a length of wire. At some point, the item fell off...and it was all but forgotten about. One day, I went to look out the window and the end of the wire went right into my eye.

I've always been really sensitive about my eyes. Imagine my horror when I looked in the mirror and saw blood pouring from my eye. (Imagine my parent's horror for that matter.)

Luckily, I was wearing contacts at the time, and the wire glanced off of them, mildly scratched my cornea, and tore up the underside of my eyelid, which was where all the blood was coming from.

I looked like a pirate for several weeks afterwards.

And I thought my brother wa... (Below threshold)

And I thought my brother was bad! He got his first stitches at 14 months, and in one memorable year, we were in the emergency room with him every other weekend. Still, the best story was him telling us that the cut on the back of his head requiring 10 stitches was from "this kid up on the hill who threw a brick up in the air and the wind caught it and hit me in the head".






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