Scar down the middle of my chest and on my right leg, from bypass surgery almost 6 years ago.
Small scar on the bridge of my nose, from my bout with chicken pox many years ago.
I have a 1cm scar on my right thumb, from when I was about 10. I’d got rather frustrated with some homework, and had gone to throw the offending piece of paper in the kitchen bin. Hit my thumb on an open can. Luckily, I was also studying for my Brownies’ First Aid Badge at the time, so I knew exactly what to do!
There’s a round scar halfway between my left knee and ankle, from when I fell down an open grate at school.
And then, there’s the operation scar, which is by far the most impressive. Its about 10 cm long, and would look rather impressive, except its not very visible, being under my breast!
We’re counting pencil marks? I’ve got two. One’s in my left eyebrow, from when I fell running upstairs with a sharpened pencil. My mum was afraid I was gonna get lead poisoning :rolleyes:
The other’s in the top of my foot, from when a brother stabbed me.
Other scars are slightly more interesting. The cut on my chin is from one time my middle brother and I were going at it hammer and tongs. I slipped backwards on some grass, and he got me on the point with a bicycle-- unfortunately for my skin, he hit me with the pedal that the cap had come off-- so the nut and bolt sank in.
The scar between my left eye and eyebrow is from a soccer match where I had to get dragged off the field. Me and another guy both went up for a header-- I hit the ball, he bit my face. The ref immediately stopped play, but I didn’t realize I’d been cut until my dad and coach wiped up the blood from my face and showed it to me.
The knuckles on each hand have two scars from fist fights. That’s pretty low, actually…
There’s a nice hatched chevron at the base of my left index finger-- that’s from surgery to remove a ganglion. Also on the palm side of my left thumb is a little scar from where I deflected a knife my youngest brother threw at me… (Anyone seeing a pattern here?)
All the burn scars from both arms and my neck are gone. They used to make a good impression of a hot iron, complete with steam holes…
But most notable is the entry and exit holes from that time I got shot in the head. Went in just in front of my right ear (which is why I like sideburns) and came out on my left temple. It used to be a severe divot, and a doc said I could get dermabrasion if I wanted it, but it ain’t that bad, and has faded over the years.
I’ve got a small dueling scar.
Traditionally dueling scars could be considered rakish, sexy and debonair.
Mine however is about a quarter inch on the back of my hand.
The duel was about 35 years ago with my 8-year-old brother who was overly excited by some movie we were watching and started dueling with the small metal flute he had from school. He cracked the back of my hand open with raised mouthpiece putting in a rather deep half inch gash. It turned blue all around it and bled pretty well for a while. The scar is still visible.
Yeah… a dueling scar sounds much better than a scar from a flute.
I’ve got the typical chicken pox scar in the forehead, and it’s a pretty big one too. There’s also one in the small of my back, over my bum.
I’ve got a circular scar on the top of my foot from a long-forgotten childhood injury. I do remember going to the hospital to get the scab professionally torn off so that it wouldn’t leave a scar, however. This memory could be completely fabricated, but it’s so vivid. I must ask my parents if it’s true.
I have three thin scars on the bottom of my right foot from where I stepped on what I believe was a broken bottle in a lagoon after an outrigger canoe race. The lagoon was beyond filthy, murky and full of sewage. As we were paddling out to begin the race a shark swam into our boat. When I stepped on the bottle I sort of yelped, and hobbled to shore. As I came out of the water everyone saw my foot gushing blood and a few folks thought I got bitten by a shark, which would have made a much cooler story. Although the doctor did have to take what looked like a plastic nail brush and scrub the sand and grit stuck in the bottom of my foot.
I used to have a tragus piercing in my left ear, which shortly after I got it erupted into what my friends and I referred to as the “pusbag.” I was restricted in my treatment options as we were traveling at the time, and turned to a daily regimen of draining the pusbag and covering it with antibiotic cream. When I got back to the States I had a plantar wart on my finger, a wicked case of athlete’s foot, and the aforementioned pusbad to take to the dermatologist. After assessing the pusbag, the nurse took me down to ER where the lovely docs took that device you use to cut rings off swollen fingers, and applied it to the ring. I had to ask them to stop twice because of the pain. The ring snapped off, the pusbag cleared up, and now I have a sort of interior bit of scar tissue where the piercing was.
I have an inch-long scar on my right arm where I had a suspicious mole removed. I’m a keloid former, and thus the scar looks a lot more dramatic than the doctor promised. I sometimes tell the gullible and inquisitive I was stabbed by a key in a bar fight.
Oh boy. Let’s just start at the top of the skull, shall we?
Three scars from wounds to the scalp as a child, all three sutured. Different lengths, different ages up to age…hmm…9?
A pale scar about 1/8 inch long along my left eye socked, just below the brow. I was chasing my best friend Mitchell. He ran through a chain link fence, and threw the door back at me. I kicked said door, and regained my balance only to run right into it. The sharp jag of the cut chain linking tore into my face. It is but for dumb luck that the metal rode along the outside of the eye socket, and didn’t take my eye right out.
Left upper outside arm. I’m 40, I have a smallpox scar there.
Left elbow/upper forearm. When I was about 25, an outside door blew closed against my arm as I was locked the door to our apartment. The glass shattered in that amazingly cool liquid spattering sound way that big glass has. It cut me in two places, both about 2 inches long. Dead silence. The Wifestrocity calls out, ’ Um…you ok? '. I just asked for a towel and a ride to the ER.
Left hand. Hairline scar from where X-Acto Knife sliced into my index finger in 12th grade. butterfly banadage, no stitches. Cuts and scars from various injuries on knuckles.
Right hand. Small bump where glass jar broke agains hand, and chip of glass embedded against nail bed. Dr. opted to leave it in, rather than risk cutting nail bed and ruining my nail forever ( so he said… ). Three white scars from when I was a child, and used to reach for stuff on the coffee table, brushing my hand against the cigarettes my parents left burning in the spiral steel spring ash tray.
Lower back. Tiny dot where needle was pushed in to inject spinal cementing two years ago.
Right knee. I slipped in the 3rd grade during ice hockey at school. The school in the countryside outside of Philly still has large ponds, I saw them last autumn. I slipped, fell, slid across the ice into the jagged stone wall around the pond. Deep penetration of stone into kneecap area. Many sutures. Still have scar.
I think that’s about it. Oh wait, there’s that time Ilyse Kramer broke my heart in the 3rd grade…but that scar is on the inside… 
Cartooniverse
From when I was in the Army:
Four round scars about 2cm each on my chest
A 16cm long scar on the inside of my left arm thats 10cm wide in places (yeah, I just measured it)
And oh yeah, I lost my right leg. That’s kind of a scar, right?
From my childhood:
Six different scalp wounds. My mom used to call me football-head because of all the stitches.
Am I really the only amputee here?
3-4 inch vertical scar on my left hip from a muscle biopsy.
1 inch scar on my right knee from falling on a piece of glass as a kid.
Small round dog bite scar on left forearm.
The remnants of a cyst smack dam in the middle of my chest.
And the big ones : I was nuts as a young man. I have severe self-inflicted scars on my body. Words, in two-inch high letters, up and down both forearms, front and back, branded in with a hot paperclip. Several scars on my hands from where I extingushed matches. A name carved into my leg.
I’m better now.
hrh
One whitish scar, about the size of my thumbnail, is on my right wrist. I got that one when I was stoking a fire, and it spat a ball of sparks onto my hand. Oddly enough, it’s shaped like a heart.
Another scar is on my chin, but can only be seen if I tip my head back. I was roller-blading and fell, scraped all the skin off my chin, and walked around for a month with a big gaping red sore – I’m sure everyone thought I had a six hundred pound linebacker boyfriend who was beating the hell out of me. I was petrified that I was going to be disfigured, but much to my relief it healed up nicely and you can barely see it even if you’re looking for a scar.
.:Nichol:.
When I was wee, I drank hydrochloric acid. This resulted in the following scars:
Acid burn: both lips, later covered with plastic surgery. Still visible.
Surgical scar: running from just under right ear to pit of my throat. Part of esophogeal replacement surgery.
Acid burn: Left chest. About the size of my fist.
Surgical scar: running from just under sternum to just past belly-button. Part of esophogeal replacement surgery.
Surgical scar: running from behind right shoulder blade down to side, just under my armpit. No idea what that’s from.
Acid burns: both legs, from the knees down.
Surgical scar: abdomen, roughly where (I think) an appendectomy scar would be.
Surgical scar: left side of my belly. Used to be where I was fed through a tube.
I think those are the highlights from that little incident.
Other incidents:
Foot surgery to “correct” flat arches on my right foot. Resulted in two scars: one just under my the outer ankle (~1-2" long), and one running along the inside of my arch (~3-4" long).
Knife wound: Cut my right thumb, index finger and middle finger, all with one swipe. Scar on my thumb goes half way around; the wound went to the bone.
Fall: tore open right earlobe, about halfway up. Stitched together crooked, so there is a noticable kink.
Yay, something I can participate in!
Many, many scars have I.
Face - Scar on my upper lip right under my nose from where my cat scratched me when I was a little girl and we had just come back from vacation and I picked him up and scared him. I remember, at the time you could pull my lip apart and see my teeth through it, that’s how deep it was. Not a very bad scar, considering.
Arms - Numerous scars from cat, all recent so hopefully they will face. Long, extremely faded scar on my left wrist from when I was little and trying to help my dad lift the camper off the back of his truck, it slipped and scraped down my arm. Also numerous cigarette burns. See “Hands”.
Hands - Left hand covered with faded cigarette burns. Long story short: my first juvenille experiments with body modification. Also many cuts and such on fingertips from various mishaps with pumpkin carving and cat-food-can-opening.
Torso - Fading scars on my left nipple from when I got my nipple pierced and it got very badly infected. Scar on my left hip from some kind of crazy bug bite thing I got a couple months ago.
Nothing very interesting on my legs or feet that I can think of.
Hmmm…aside from the assorted acne and chicken pox scars, I’ve got:
Bridge of the nose: When I was two, I was in the back of a station wagon (this was before child seats were common). My parents hit the brakes suddenly, and I fell forward and hit my nose on the back of the seat. I don’t remember this happening, but I’ve got the scar anyhow.
Left temple: While skiing, my skiing partner got the T-bar snagged on a bit of clothing while trying to get off. I got off the other side, skied a few feet away and turned just in time to see the T-bar come loose and recoil straight into the side of my head. Blood all over the ski slope. Oddly, it didn’t hurt and I made it back to the lodge under my own power, but ended up with 13 stitches and a major black eye.
Left wrist: Two-inch scar earned while leaning over a desk trying to open a window. Important tip: never try to do this by pressing on the glass. Ten stitches.
Torso: A much faded six-inch childhood scar. Create your own mental picture: backyard swingset, going down the sliding board on my bare stomach, a slightly raised flathead screw. No stitches, but a lot of blood.
Abdomen: Small surgical scar. Cancer. All better now.
Right arm and hand: Last Christmas one of my inlaws’ cats – the mellow one, mind you – went from zero to postal in an eyeblink on my arm, leaving deep gouges around my forearm from the back claws and deep bites on my hand (which later got infected, making the scars worse – one of them still hasn’t healed entirely). Thank goodness he’s got no front claws, or I’d have lost a few fingers. I also have several stupidity-induced burn marks, caused by reaching into the oven with hotpads and touching the exposed back of my hand to the oven rack.
Feet: Ah, those halcyon summer days of childhood. I was a carefree barefoot boy, spending every summer wandering the dirt trails that wind through the forests of northeastern Pennsylvania. And every summer for three years, I stepped on a bit of half-buried broken bottle somewhere along the way. By the third time I was rather blase’ about the whole thing.
To add to the tally, I’ve also got a broken tooth. It’s amazing I’m still alive, really. 
I fall down a lot.
Bridge of nose: Fell off second story of a parking garage in a snowstorm. Landed on my face. Should have gotten stitches but I couldn’t afford it.
Side of head: Small scar (about 2 inches). Fell out of bed when I was about 5. Fun hospital trip.
Top of head: Right in the middle of my rapidly growing bald spot I have a nasty, curly 4 to 5 inch blobby scar from when I fell through an open hole in a stage. Landed on my head. That bled A LOT.
Right Hand: 2 inch scar on the side below the pinky (you know, the meaty part) from a welding/steel accident.
Also a couple of scars on my knuckles from bar fights (I’m much calmer now)
Left hand: A few scars from fights.
Left knee: Big old scar from falling off my bike when I was younger.
Right thigh: I also have the now famous and trendy “pencil in my leg” look.
Right calf: Big scar from a mole removal gone horribly wrong.
I know these don’t count as scars, but I have had 7 concussions as well.
I wonder how I’m still alive.
Slight hijack. Darwin’s Finch, would you mind explaining this? I would be very interested in hearing this story.
Let’s see there’s the mostly faded scar on my forehead from high velocity doorknob, which was attached to the door which was flung open during a storm when I was well, doorknob height. Bled like a bastard for a while but Dad managed to patch me up without a visit to the ER. Oddly as I’ve grown it’s moved up into my hairline and then back down agian.
Next is the nice (self inflected) knife wound on the outside of my left pinky finger, from the time I was carving something with a swiss army knife, in a very stupid manner, when it folded. Went all the way to the bone. Bandaged it myself and it healed in a couple weeks. Shoulda been using a lockback knife I guess
I have a BB shaped scar at about the spot on your chest where you collar bone connects, ya know about a cm away from the last soft part of your throat before your breastbone. A HS friend walked up to me with what he thought was an unloaded BB gun, pumped it a few times and shot me from about ten feet away, meaning to surprise me with the air blast. Whats funny is that when I screamed out “YOU FUCKING SHOT ME, YOU ASSHOLE!” none of my other friends standing around believed me until the saw the blood. Even funnier is the reaction of my friend who’s yard we were “Guys my parents CAN’T find out about this OK!”
My favorite is on my left calf, an odd irregularly shaped scar about the size of a silver dollar. This is all that remains of a giant blister on my leg from a backpacking trip in Alaska last summer when I walked through a patch of Devils Club and then a patch of Cow Parsnip on a really sunny day. Some of the Cow Parsnip oil must of have gotten in to a deep. large cut from the devils club because two days later I had this giant fluid filled blister on my leg. Was there for a week or so and left this lovely scar when it popped. Shows up really well when I’ve been out in the sun since scar tissue doesn’t tan like normal skin.
Two worth mentioning:
The first is on my upper left theigh. It used to be an oblong rectangle, taking up a good percent of my skin in the area. Over the years, it’s dwindled down to barely noticable. When I was 4, we were playing with sparklers on the 4th of July. Why my mom let a 4 year old play with fireworks, I may never know. But the sparks started to scare me, and I held it away from my face…as I laid it right on my leg. It sucked…it sucked a wholoe lot.
The second is on my right wrist. There are actually 2 of them there, but they’re both really tiny. When I was 10, my 8 year old sister dug her nails into my arm during a fight. She broke the skin, and I broke into tears. I still hold it against her every now and then…
And over the years, I’ve accumulated various scars from work…fry baskets, grill burns, hot oil splatters, etc. My skin may never be normal again…
I’m not forty yet 
however I to have a small pox scar in the same general area.
I have one chicken pox scar over my right eyebrow. I see it but no one else does. Maybe I’m imagining it.
When I was nine I was in a car accident. My chin and the dash met and the dash won. I have two scars near each other on the underside of my chin. One is about an inch the other smaller by a tad.
At 14 I had baked a family holiday tradition pie (brown sugar pie) and was delivering one to my cousins home when the uncle’s doberman mistook my knee for lunch. I have doberman teeth print scars on my lower thigh just above the knee.
Also at 14, I sat on a bed with a hot curling iron and have a 3rd degree curling iron burn scar on the top of my left foot, just above the large toe. It’s about three inches long.
Also at 14, I stepped through the slats on a wooden flat pallet and scraped the hide off my right ankle. You could see bone. I nearly passed out from that one.
I have two small needle scars in my spine. I can feel them. I don’t know if anyone can see them.
A c-section scar that seems to goes from just under my navel to right about where a biking would start to cover.
A c-section scar that seems to go from hip to hip. The two combine to make an odd inverted T scar.
I have scars on the inside crook of both elbows, from giving blood so much during and after son number two’s bout with an extremely rare leukemia syndrome. One the left it’s right in the middle on the right it’s way over towards my right where the vein is so close, it’s a good stick.
Just last spring I had stomach surgery, removal of part of my stomach, a bile duct and my gall bladder. The biopsy was negative, (yay!) but I have a souvenir scar that begins a bit below my left breast and runs down and towards the right almost five inches, sure seems excessively long to me from when I look at pictures of where things are. But thin again, maybe it needed to be that big for them to look around really good for those scary shadowy things.
I fell a couple of weeks ago and skinned my elbow. (Yeah, I know, that’s usually the kind of thing eight year olds do, but what can I say other than… I’m clumsy.
When I was but a wee lad of four, I was outside playing in a sandbox, as wee lads of four are wont to do. I was accompanied by my brother (who was a wee lad of six at the time). We were approached by three older kids (teenagers) who offered us a nice drink of water from the plastic juice jar they happened to have with them. It being a rather hot July day, we agreed, but my brother, being the magnanimous sort (at the time), allowed me to go first. Not having been given the “don’t take things from strangers” speech as yet, I accepted and took a swig. As you might gather from my previous post, it really wasn’t water. I dropped the bottle immediately (which splashed on my chest, burning a hole through my shirt, and onto my legs, which were bare, as I was wearing shorts at the time).
I spent the next six months in Oakland (CA) Children’s Hospital as they put me back together. Given that I’m still around, I’d guess they did a fair job of it.
I have no idea what became of the teens who had the acid, nor where they got it from, nor why they did what they did.
Darwin’s Finch: You are a very VERY lucky man. That is a shocking story.
Wow (about Darwin’s Finch’s story).
Scars: Two in my leg where they put the pin after I broke my leg horseback riding. Well, technically, it was the fall off the horse that did it.
One right over my right eye. We were sparring (padded quarterstaffs), and my opponent didn’t check his weapon carefully.
One on my finger - I was careless with a knife.