So I was sitting on my bed, in the middle of cleaning, and I was taking a break and eating some jellybeans when I heard my dogs barking out in the backyard. I was getting a little aggravated because I was enjoying my jelly bellys. So after a few minutes of their constant barking, my lazy ass decides NOT to get up but instead pat on the window to shut them up. See, I’ve done this before and no problems but I guess this time was just one too many. The second time I patted the window my hand goes right through it. I’m sitting there thinking, “What the HELL just happened?” HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE!! MY BF IS GONNA KILL ME! lol Then I started to bleed really bad on my wrist so I started to freak out. I called my mom and had her take me to the E.R. and we waited there for 7 hours. When I finally got to see a doctor after taking a few X-rays of my hand, they had told me I had no glass in my hand whatsoever… All I needed was a good cleaning and a Tetanus shot. After they washed away all the blood it was just a few cuts and scratches… I’m like really? I was freaking over this? So I basically went to the e.r. and waited 7 hours to get Neosporin and a Bandaid. DRAMA QUEEN?? I’m super embarrassed. The guy who also cleaned my cuts had asked what type of friends I had, the ones who would make fun of me if I had my hand wrapped around in gauze, I said yes. So he insisted to wrap my whole hand in a pound of gauze and sent me on my way… I told my bf that my cuts weren’t serious but he has yet to see and he’s gonna laugh his ass off… :smack:
Moved to a more appropriate forum.
I wasn’t embarassed but it was funny:
One hot summer evening in my early teens I was screwing around with a buddy fighting over a pen knife. As might be expected (and as ceertainly would have been predicted by either of our mothers) one of us got cut. It was me…
Cut on the tip of my middle finger, which proved to need 2-3 stitches (Still have the scar more than 40 years later). Before the repair, we packed the steadily bleeding finger in ice and some sort of cloth and off to the hospital ER in the family car. I held my bleeding hand clutched in the other against my stomach. I was wearing a white tee shirt, so you can imagine the bloody mess of my appearance with the blood still flowing and the ice melting to spread the flow further. Most of the stomach of my shirt was covered in blood.
Arriving at the hospital, I was asked what happened and I replied honestly “I got cut with a knife.” One look at my blood soaked t-shirt andd the staff went into “Stat” mode, getting me on a stretcher, blood pressure cuff, cutting my shirt off looking for the wound etc. Eventually (shortly) I was asked where did I get stabbed and I showed them my cut finger. It seemed to me, they were all angry at me for not being more seriously injured.
Any particular reason you posted this twice?
My adult son was helping me deliver papers and fell asleep in an outside chair waiting for me to pick him up at the nursing home he’d just finished. As I pulled into the drive beside him, he–still sleeping soundly–overbalanced and pitched forward headfirst into the concrete.
I dropped him off at his second job, went to MY second job, and then got a call later in the day–his boss was sending him to the emergency room because he was exhibiting signs of a concussion. Sure enough, the emergency room people said, and what happened again? I don’t think anyone would have believed him if I hadn’t been there insisting that I saw it with my own eyes.
About 20 years ago the exhaust system on my car rotted out. I opted to replace it myself, but of course the bolts that attached it to the exhaust manifold were rusted so badly that the heads twisted off when I tried to loosen them. I decided to drill out the stub that remained. And so I shimmied under the car, hoisted the drill overhead, and began drilling directly above my face. With no eye protection whatsoever. Metal chips and flakes rained down on me, and quite predictably, one landed in my eye and became embedded in my cornea, scratching my eyelid every time I blinked. After several hours and several attempts to flush it out, I had to visit the ER and explain to them how I had thought it was a good idea to drill metal directly above my face with no eye protection. :smack: With their scopes and dyes and picks, they quickly extracted the offending particle, but I still felt like a dumbass. Lesson learned, I’ve been pretty adamant about personal protective equipment ever since.
I was closing my trunk one day and I’m still not quite sure what happened, but I think one of the raised letters in CIVIC hit my hand. Three stiches! I think it was the V; that bastard was always giving me the stinkeye.
Very similar happened to my brother many years ago, but his was drilling under the dashboard to install an 8 track tape deck 
I remember the rust ring it left after they removed it.
Many many years ago in college I travelled to the big SCA Pennsic medieval event a few times. One day as I was splitting wood for the campfire I found myself down to the last piece of wood to split. Without anything substantial to hold the wood in place I formed a sort of tripod of timber and swung a mighty overhead swing of my axe.
Moments later I sat dazed on the ground, blood gushing from my forehead, as I had managed to catapult the log up into my head. I was quickly driven to the local ER where soon I was taken care of, 6 stitches right between my eyebrows. Dressed in garb I attracted a bit of attention with the staff. The nurse apologized that I would have to wear a bandage (as the wound was still seeping a little) but when I explained it went great with the ‘costume’ of the event she wrapped my head with gusto and I returned to camp with a real big bloody bandage.
Needless to say I got a lot of free beer that week.
boo89, the exact same thing happened to me. But I got something like 11 stitches. That was in 1996. I still have the scar.
A few years ago I was in my apartment alone, when… no, wait. I was rescuing a busload of nuns and schoolkids from 10 terrorists. No wait, 20 terrorists, who were also Nazis. Yeah, that’s the ticket. 34 terrorist Nazi commies. From the Westboro Baptist Church. With machetes and weirding modules. Anyway, I fell down a couple of steps and broke both of my feet.
When I told the ER guy about the 77 terrorist Nazi commie Klingons with machetes, Chinese throwing stars, phasers set to kill, and magic sledgehammers +3 of slaying tdn, he laughed and said that the same thing happened to him once. And he managed not to spill a single drop of beer during the whole thing!
Years ago I was sewing an outfit I wanted to finish up to wear the next day. It was about 11PM at night. I was at work all day and really was too sleepy to sew.
I fell asleep at the machine and sewed right through my left index finger. The needle broke off and the pointy end was sticking out. I didn’t know how to get it out. There was so much blood I could not get a grip on the end of the needle. I drove myself to the ER. It was a slow night there. I had about 6 people helping me. They made me lay on a guerny to wheel me to X-ray. It is one of the few times in my life when I have been embarrassed.
Not me but my dad - my parents were in their outdoor hot tub, drinking wine and watching the sky because some meteor shower was due to put in a performance that evening.
My dad ran out of wine so hopped out to get a refill. He slipped on the linoleum in the kitchen and donked his head. Didn’t think much of it at the time, went back to the hot tub and enjoyed the evening.
A few weeks later he was getting two burr holes drilled in his skull to remove the hemorrhage…
"sewed right through my left index finger. The needle broke off and the pointy end was sticking out. "
As a child i was messing about at my mother’s table sewing machine, which was controlled by a knee lever (as opposed to a foot treadle).
Leaned over doing something and ended up just as you describe. My problem was, I was not allowed to mess around with Mom’s sewing machine, heck I wasn’t allowed in the sewing room (probably to avoid just this happening)
So there I was with a needle broken off in my finger about an inch from the tip and if I called for help, I would get introuble. I somehow manage to pull it out myself now the real bleeding starts.
yes, I called for mom; yes, I got into trouble.
PLUS
working without eye protection - rust ring
Working in a auto repair shop somehow a tiny star washer was flung into my eye. Don’t recall how long before removed, but i had a rust ring that looked like a little kid’s drawing of the sun (circular all spiky around circumference)
I’m an EMT. I was at the station, on duty, when I cut my finger - bad. I ran into the bathroom & tried to rinse it off but it wouldn’t stop bleeding & there was no towels. I [del]called[/del] screamed for the rest of my crew as they were in the front part of the building with the TV on. They brought me some gauze & it was slowing but not stopping bleeding. They only wanted to take me to the ER in the ambulance, which I refused. Eventually agreed to allow them to drive me in my car so they’d be available to take ‘real’ calls.
Then I walked into the ER, bleeding, where I know everyone. Oh the shit I took that night!
When I was 12 or 13 years old, I was attending some dog trial festival, the kind where you camp out with a bunch of rednecks. There was a little Pizza Hut stand which had its portable ovens on this big wooden table. The pizza delivery driver was delivering pizzas on a golf cart, and somehow or other when he returned he slammed into the table, which then slammed into me. They wrapped me up, strapped me to a board and carted me away in an ambulance, the whole nine yards.
So, I sprained my neck getting hit by a pizza delivery driver in a golf cart.
When I was dating my husband, one afternoon he was working on his pickup in his driveway. The neighbor was watching from his porch.
Hubby couldn’t get the drain plug out of the crankcase. The neighbor offered a cheater bar. Back under the truck, the neighbor heard a clunk and hubby’s feet splayed out. The neighbor called out to him; no response. So he ran over and dragged him out from under the truck. He was unconscious for a moment.
I arrived just as he was coming to. I asked if he was ok, and he said, “Sure, fine, why?” I told him he had a big knot on his forehead and blood running into his eyes.
I tried to get him to go to the ER, but he was too embarrassed.
Next day, at work, his helmet wouldn’t fit. His fire captian drove him to the ER, then home. I got yelled at by his captian for not MAKING him go in the night before.
To this day he refuses to admit he had a concussion.
I had had my first horse for a couple months and was riding him in the indoor arena at a canter; he heard them start feeding in the stall row, and he took the bit in his teeth, running away with me to go get fed. He ducked thru the doorway leading to the stalls- it was normally tall enough to ride thru easily, but they were doig a little work on the barn and had planks across that hallway, propped across the stalls on either side. Right at the height of a person on a horse.
It hit me square on the bridge of my nose, broke my nose, scraped off a strip of skin on my forehead, and left me with a purple goose egg, lying on my back on his butt. I managed to get my horse untacked and in his stall, and took the saddle (western, about 30 lbs) into the tackroom, carrying it with my right thumb in the hole under the saddle horn. My saddle rack was about shoulder height for me and I went to swing it up; I was still a little light-headed from being whacked with the plank and didn’t get enough ‘oomph’ behind it. The saddle fell backward, with my thumb still in the hole, and ripped all the tendons and ligaments out.
So I managed to drive home with a raging headache, blood streaming down my face and a right thumb hanging limply. My parents freaked out and rushed me to the ER. Mild concussion, packed my broken nose, and a wrist brace for my thumb for 2 weeks.
And I never even fell off the damned horse! 
When I was a grad student, I was in my office one time and I wanted to open a container of instant hot chocolate. Unfortunately, the lid of the hot chocolate required a can opener to open. However, the canister itself was made out of cardboard and I had a utility knife handy. So I had the great idea that I would hold the canister near the top and saw around the side of the canister, also near the top. It worked great until I sawed through the back of my thumb.
I didn’t go to the ER, but it took a whole mess o’ paper towels before my thumb stopped bleeding. I still have the scar.
I once tried to slam a storm door and put my arm through its window instead. Don’t think I went to the ER for that, though.
Three stories, none of which happened to me directly, but all of which I learned about directly from someone who “was there”.
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A friend of mine was doing yardwork at his home, and pushing a wheelbarrow full of dirt across the yard. While going down a small hill, the wheel of the wheelbarrow suddenly became stuck. He stumbled forward, and the handle of the wheelbarrow hit him in the lower abdomen. By the time his wife got him to the ER, he’d bled some internally. His scrotum became swollen with blood, and was several times normal size (as well as being dark purple). Even worse, the doctor told him, “not a lot we can do for that, you’ll have to wait for your body to re-absorb all of that.”
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A friend was a doctor with the U.S. Army, working the night shift at the base’s hospital. Late one evening, a sergeant came to the ER, complaining of a burning sensation when he urinated. He denied having had any recent sexual liasons, but when asked if he knew of any reason for the pain, would not answer. Finally, under pressure from my friend, the sergeant admitted that he had, recently, been making a habit of masturbating by placing a knitting needle in his urethra. :eek:
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A different friend was a medical technician, working the graveyard shift at a large hospital here in Chicago. Late one Friday night, a young man came into the ER, having suffered a pretty nasty bite wound around the base of his penis. He chose to not provide the ER staff with any details as to how the injury occurred.
About an hour later, a young woman came to the same ER, bleeding from a head wound, which she claimed to have no recollection of having suffered. When the doctor cleaned the wound, he discovered that she’d actually suffered a number of puncture wounds, grouped in lines of 4.
The doctor put two and two together, and it was quickly discovered that the young man and the young woman had met at a bar earlier that evening. They’d gone back to her apartment, and began to fool around. While she was performing fellatio, she suffered an epileptic seizure, and bit down. The young man, desperate to stop her, grabbed the first thing in arm’s reach, which happened to be a fork, and stabbed her on the top of the head, until she passed out. He then fled, heading to the hospital. A short time later, she woke up, discovered that she was bleeding, and headed to the same hospital.