15 + 14 points
The Callouses on Your Hands by Jayce .
March 21st, 2010 6:16 AM
As I am quite accident prone I cannot keep this list at a mere one injury. Enjoy :)
When I was a young girl of about 5 I was walking around our large property towards my chicken shed when I felt an odd sensation on my foot.
A part of me knew straight away something was wrong but chose to ignore it. So I kept walking ... for about 5 paces before I realised the grass was starting to get sticky. I look down only to see my entire foot covered in crimson red blood. The ever faithful cry of 'MUUUUUUUM!!!' ensured I was found quickly, had my foot temporarily wrapped up and rushed to hospital. I had sliced my foot open from my toes to the middle of the arch in my foot on a piece of discarded glass that had emerged with elemental forces and time.
The local hospital was 30 minutes away and going there was probably a waste of time anyway. I simple refused point blank to get stitches because I was told it would hurt like a bee sting. Never mind the fact I'd just sliced my foot open without feeling it ... bee stings hurt! So My parents were handed an assortment of butterfly stitches and I had a few fixed in place when I left and was given strict instructions not to put any weight on it for a few weeks. In a 5 year olds mind this translates to sisters becoming slaves.
I do now regret the decision to refuse stitches now in retrospect as stitches would have meant a much more impressive scar in the long run. Alas I'm just too good a healer and only a slight scar remains for my trouble.
As any child does, I used to ride a bike, and even do to this day (when they're not getting stolen that is >.>) But my first riding experience was anything but pleasurable.
My parents didn't get me or my siblings a bike until we we're around 10, a little bit past the age of when training wheels are an acceptable bike accessory. But my first bike riding experience came just before we got our own bikes ... when I was around 8. I was at a friends place and we wanted to go to 'The creek' (growing up in a small town all things seem to be prefixed with 'THE') however the creek was a good 30mins+ walk.
Solution - ride a bike! My friend and her siblings had their own bikes but I had to borrow one from her next-door neighbour. Alas the next door neighbour was only 5, and it was a very small bike. Never mind, we strapped our helmets on and off we went. As I used to be a gymnast my balance was fairly good and I could ride the bike and was only a little wobbly. That is until some of the hills we went down
... Nobody had told me the breaks no longer worked and instead you had to pedal backwards for breaks. I discovered this for myself when I heard a car approaching from behind on what was a fairly blind corner ... I moved as far off the road as I could still trying to catch up with my friends, only to lose control on a particularly steep hill when I went off the bitumen and onto the loose gravel sides.
As could only be expected I fell off and landed heavily on my elbow, only for the car to not actually come around the corner until a few minutes later.
The result was this lovely scar on my elbow ^.^v
This next story has not resulted in a very strong scar so instead I shall show you the bruising/grazing it left for about 1 year following ... it's too stupid a story NOT to include (but the kind I sort of wish I WAS making up >.<).
One year (2008) on Christmas Day it was a typical Australian Christmas, boiling as all hell. Mum has the tradition of filling a pillowcase instead of a stocking for us. This particular year the pillowcase had tiny water pistols in them. After the large traditional Christmas lunch in which we stuff ourselves with a delicious collection of goodies, a general lull fills the household. All the presents have been opened and most of the food gone. I decided to be a little trickster and attack my sister with said tiny water pistol whilst she was resting on the living room floor. Being so smart I realised that in order to be super-dooper sneaky I should go around the veranda to the front door and get her through the open window in order to evade being detected. What a great idea right?!
Wrong. Silly me forgot in my temporary ninja state that some of the veranda wood had rotted and was really weak. So off I ran! I got about 5 steps before I found one of only a few rotted pieces of wood. Well my entire leg found it, notably my knee. Screaming/swearing ensued, which caught the attention of my sister on whom the attack was all planned. She realised what I was up to in a flash simply said 'Karma's a bitch' and walked off - leaving me with one very impressive temporary scar that had people asking me what had I bruised myself on for over a year following.
Still more to come :D
When I was a young girl of about 5 I was walking around our large property towards my chicken shed when I felt an odd sensation on my foot.
A part of me knew straight away something was wrong but chose to ignore it. So I kept walking ... for about 5 paces before I realised the grass was starting to get sticky. I look down only to see my entire foot covered in crimson red blood. The ever faithful cry of 'MUUUUUUUM!!!' ensured I was found quickly, had my foot temporarily wrapped up and rushed to hospital. I had sliced my foot open from my toes to the middle of the arch in my foot on a piece of discarded glass that had emerged with elemental forces and time.
The local hospital was 30 minutes away and going there was probably a waste of time anyway. I simple refused point blank to get stitches because I was told it would hurt like a bee sting. Never mind the fact I'd just sliced my foot open without feeling it ... bee stings hurt! So My parents were handed an assortment of butterfly stitches and I had a few fixed in place when I left and was given strict instructions not to put any weight on it for a few weeks. In a 5 year olds mind this translates to sisters becoming slaves.
I do now regret the decision to refuse stitches now in retrospect as stitches would have meant a much more impressive scar in the long run. Alas I'm just too good a healer and only a slight scar remains for my trouble.
As any child does, I used to ride a bike, and even do to this day (when they're not getting stolen that is >.>) But my first riding experience was anything but pleasurable.
My parents didn't get me or my siblings a bike until we we're around 10, a little bit past the age of when training wheels are an acceptable bike accessory. But my first bike riding experience came just before we got our own bikes ... when I was around 8. I was at a friends place and we wanted to go to 'The creek' (growing up in a small town all things seem to be prefixed with 'THE') however the creek was a good 30mins+ walk.
Solution - ride a bike! My friend and her siblings had their own bikes but I had to borrow one from her next-door neighbour. Alas the next door neighbour was only 5, and it was a very small bike. Never mind, we strapped our helmets on and off we went. As I used to be a gymnast my balance was fairly good and I could ride the bike and was only a little wobbly. That is until some of the hills we went down
... Nobody had told me the breaks no longer worked and instead you had to pedal backwards for breaks. I discovered this for myself when I heard a car approaching from behind on what was a fairly blind corner ... I moved as far off the road as I could still trying to catch up with my friends, only to lose control on a particularly steep hill when I went off the bitumen and onto the loose gravel sides.
As could only be expected I fell off and landed heavily on my elbow, only for the car to not actually come around the corner until a few minutes later.
The result was this lovely scar on my elbow ^.^v
This next story has not resulted in a very strong scar so instead I shall show you the bruising/grazing it left for about 1 year following ... it's too stupid a story NOT to include (but the kind I sort of wish I WAS making up >.<).
One year (2008) on Christmas Day it was a typical Australian Christmas, boiling as all hell. Mum has the tradition of filling a pillowcase instead of a stocking for us. This particular year the pillowcase had tiny water pistols in them. After the large traditional Christmas lunch in which we stuff ourselves with a delicious collection of goodies, a general lull fills the household. All the presents have been opened and most of the food gone. I decided to be a little trickster and attack my sister with said tiny water pistol whilst she was resting on the living room floor. Being so smart I realised that in order to be super-dooper sneaky I should go around the veranda to the front door and get her through the open window in order to evade being detected. What a great idea right?!
Wrong. Silly me forgot in my temporary ninja state that some of the veranda wood had rotted and was really weak. So off I ran! I got about 5 steps before I found one of only a few rotted pieces of wood. Well my entire leg found it, notably my knee. Screaming/swearing ensued, which caught the attention of my sister on whom the attack was all planned. She realised what I was up to in a flash simply said 'Karma's a bitch' and walked off - leaving me with one very impressive temporary scar that had people asking me what had I bruised myself on for over a year following.
Still more to come :D
Foot Scar
The remnants of the scar thats now 17 years old
My Right Elbow
The result of a bike accident as a child.
Right side of the knee
Shiny with Arnica to TRY and alleviate bruising.
left side of the knee
again, shiny with arnica. This side actually left no scarring in the long run
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posted by Jayce . on March 21st, 2010 3:59 PM
they're coming :) I thought I had one already on my computer but it's hidden somewhere ... I just have to take a new one :)
Pics or it didn't happen.