The story itself, while not for the squeamish, isn’t too bad, but the sight itself made my ex-husband throw up for days.
I was working as a home health aide for a lovely quadruplegic man. One day, I overslept, not enough to be late for work, but enough that I had to rush out the door. I basically jumped into my clothes, and took off. My patient, Rex, had gotten a new piece of equipment over the weekend, and his daughter was showing me how to use it before she left for the day. Suddenly, lack of eating breakfast caught up to me, and I passed out cold. When I came to, I was laying on the floor behind the head of Rex’s bed, and his daughter was crouching beside me going “Oh, my God. Oh, my GOD! Are you okay? Oh, oh, my God.” Being around diabetics before, I immediately realized that my sugar must have dropped below safe levels, so I sat up and said “I’m fine. Just need some sugar. Could I trouble you for some juice?” She looked at me with her mouth hanging open, and I said “Look, I hate to trouble you. I just need some sugar; that’s why I fell out. If you want, I’ll pay you back for the juice. Or pop, whatever you have that’s sweet is fine. I just need to reup my sugar level.” She blinked at me a few times, then went to the kitchen to fetch some OJ in a glass. I sucked it down and thanked her. She asked me then, “Do you need to go to the hospital?” I assured her, again, that I was okay, and that once the sugar reached my bloodstream, I’d be back to my old self. I’d never had issues with my sugar before, so I had no way of knowing it even was an issue, but I felt good enough at that point that I was sure it could wait until I could make a doctor’s apppointment. Rex asked me if I wanted some bandages. “For what?” I asked. He looked at his daughter, and they both looked back at me. “I think,” she said, “you should go look in the mirror.” Perplexed, I stood and went into the bathroom around the corner. There, halfway down my throat on the left side, was a gaping hole. Jeebus, no wonder she was freaked out! I inspected it closely and gently touched it with my fingertip. It didn’t hurt at all, but it looked pretty gruesome. There was blood all around it, drying and oozing slowly out of the hole. I grabbed some toilet paper and gently washed away the grime. There, plain as day, you could see my windpipe. It was white and rubbery-looking, like some kind of rigor-mortised squid. Turns out, when I fell, I landed on a bolt that stuck out of Rex’s headboard, where it supported the triangle he used to help him sit up. (Not sure what those are called.) If I’d fallen just a tiny bit harder, or further to the left, my trachea would’ve been punctured. I called out to Rex and his daughter, “I think I will take that band-aid!” I finished out the work day, and didn’t suffer any ill effects.
Sadly, I didn’t have a camera at the time, so I didn’t get any pictures of the thing itself, but I’ve got an awesome Frankenstein’s Monster scar there now. 
