15 + 14 points
The Callouses on Your Hands by BugZillah
January 26th, 2013 9:29 AM
This is my hand, and probably my best scar.
The creation of this scar stems from the unfortunate turn of an incredibly mundane story into a rather dramatic one. Back in my student days I lived in a rather grim little house with a rather grim little man. Between us we pretty much never cleaned and just allowed the place to fester.
Then one day we decided that enough was enough and that it was time for a spring (or indeed autumn) clean. I was chief high commander of the washing up, a task I took to with gumption.
About 2 weeks prior to this, I had smashed a drinking glass in a particularly interesting way: I knocked it on a table but the thing simply split into 2 equally sized pieces diagonally from top to bottom.
I thought this glass to be magical, and couldn't bare to part with it, so I rushed to my local Poundland and purchased some super-glue with which to repair it.
So, back to my story. It came to time to wash the glasses. Idly talking to my friend whilst working, I wasn't looking into the bowl, continuing to clean and moving from glass to glass. Eventually the conversation died back and I looked back to the bowl, which by this time was crimson with blood, my blood.
This cut looked particularly grim (I could see the mechanism of my thumb through it) and it quickly soaked through three bandages.
So, we called 999 and waited for a paramedic to arrive. The man basically said words to the effect of stop being a pussy and go to hospital (which I still hold to be mutually exclusive ideas) without actually taking me there despite admitting to heading back there. So I got the bus, loosing quite a bit of blood on the my seat and the floor.
At hospital the wound was x-rayed, cleaned and stitched. It turned out I had breached the sheath of my tendon, narrowly avoiding slicing into the tendon itself. The nurse was very kind and gave me gas and air whilst stitching it on account of me being a massive wimp.
It took about 3 weeks to get the full range of motion back in my thumb.
The creation of this scar stems from the unfortunate turn of an incredibly mundane story into a rather dramatic one. Back in my student days I lived in a rather grim little house with a rather grim little man. Between us we pretty much never cleaned and just allowed the place to fester.
Then one day we decided that enough was enough and that it was time for a spring (or indeed autumn) clean. I was chief high commander of the washing up, a task I took to with gumption.
About 2 weeks prior to this, I had smashed a drinking glass in a particularly interesting way: I knocked it on a table but the thing simply split into 2 equally sized pieces diagonally from top to bottom.
I thought this glass to be magical, and couldn't bare to part with it, so I rushed to my local Poundland and purchased some super-glue with which to repair it.
So, back to my story. It came to time to wash the glasses. Idly talking to my friend whilst working, I wasn't looking into the bowl, continuing to clean and moving from glass to glass. Eventually the conversation died back and I looked back to the bowl, which by this time was crimson with blood, my blood.
This cut looked particularly grim (I could see the mechanism of my thumb through it) and it quickly soaked through three bandages.
So, we called 999 and waited for a paramedic to arrive. The man basically said words to the effect of stop being a pussy and go to hospital (which I still hold to be mutually exclusive ideas) without actually taking me there despite admitting to heading back there. So I got the bus, loosing quite a bit of blood on the my seat and the floor.
At hospital the wound was x-rayed, cleaned and stitched. It turned out I had breached the sheath of my tendon, narrowly avoiding slicing into the tendon itself. The nurse was very kind and gave me gas and air whilst stitching it on account of me being a massive wimp.
It took about 3 weeks to get the full range of motion back in my thumb.
