Stupid injuries

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

Well, there are reasons I’m a computer geek and not an elite athlete…

Walking down the stairs in my house - the house I’d been living in for 10 years at this point - I missed the bottom step somehow. Next thing I know, I’m sprawled on the floor at the bottom and my foot hurts. In a very specific location that was familiar to be because a podiatrist had specilated I was suffering from a neuroma (between the 3rd and 4th toes). The pain got worse - so I was pretty sure I’d broken a bone. Called work and said I’d be working at home that day, called the orthopedist’s office (figured an ER was overkill) and scheduled an appointment for that afternoon.

Called Dweezil’s school and asked them to pass a message to him that I’d fetch him at the “kiss and ride” - because i knew there was no way in HELL I could have parked the car and made it inside on my own (turns out they actually have valet parking but I didn’t know it at the time). Made it inside, shaking and cussing every other step. The receptionist looked at me and said in concern “Are you all right?”. “Yeah”, sez I, “I’m not cussing in English yet”.

Bottom line: yep, broken 4th tarsal / metatarsal or whatever. Luckily I had a boot vs a cast. I tell the tale as “The stairway and I had an argument about how many steps were left. It won”. Lingering problems from this, 9 years later: the bone set - but it lies a bit lower than the other foot bones, and I now tend to develop a nasty callus underneath it which has to be debrided by a podiatrist semi-regularly.

Then there was the time I’d been at that same orthopedist’s office - a couple years before the broken foot incident; I was dealing with some knee and shoulder pain. All was going well; my primary care doc had put me on a prescription-strength NSAID that was working loads better than plain old Advil, so I was actually in far less pain than I’d been in for many months. So I walked down the hall toward the elevator… rolled me ankle and went down like a 5’11" sack of potatoes right in front of the elevator.

Luckily my husband was with me that day - he’d had an appointment right upstairs at another doctor’s office. So I sent him back down the hall to the ortho’s office to borrow a wheelchair. He wheeled me back there, and I begged them for an Ace bandage. They offered to fit me in to have the ankle checked out but I knew from experience just what I’d done, and it wasn’t necessary. I knew how to RICE it, and I even had some leftover painkillers from surgery earlier that year if needed. I sent my husband out to the car to fetch the cane we had there - because of course we kept a cane in the car - and hobbled out to the car.

I’ve had at least two other sprained ankles from similar stupid injuries.

Probably the winner though was when I stepped funny walking down some stairs when we were on vacation in Arizona. That got much higher marks for style - I actually somersaulted. Broke my left elbow that time, and bruised my left thigh to the point where it still has a bit of a divot in the muscle. Went to the ER after a bit when I realized I’d likely broken it (experience: I’d broken the RIGHT elbow a few years earlier almost-but-not-quite stepping up onto a curb). Solo - as my husband had to stay at the hotel with the kids who were a bit too young to be left alone. Side note: Phoeniz, AZ, may be a big city for that part of the country but their cab service availability at 2 AM - at least in 2005 - sucked.

I’ve told this tale here before: apparently the way to get narcotics at an ER is to sit patiently, and not whine about your AAAAGOOOOONYYYYYY while they (quite rightly) triage others in ahead of you. Probably helped that I was a fat middle-aged woman and presumably didn’t fit their drug-seeking profiles - and didn’t ASK for pain relief. They x-rayed me, saw no evidence of a break, said it was likely just a sprain - then handed me, un-asked-for, a scrip for a week’s worth of Vicodin. The “sprain” being a break was confirmed 2 weeks later when it still hurt like hell and I visited a doctor at home, but the break was a sort that didn’t always show on x-ray immediately and the treatment (a sling) was the same either way.

22

Twice I’ve done the thing where you’re getting down from a ladder and think you’ve reached the bottom rung and step off, but you misjudged…

23

Hit by a car while running away from a local bully
Ran face-first into a metal post
Playing pitch and catch with a bowling ball ended badly
Stuck a scalpel blade through my thumb
Received 220V electrical shocks (twice)
Three broken arms due to falls: twice left, once right

24

In Junior High (age 11-13ish) I used to read a book while riding my bike home through several miles of non-stop residential suburbia. Rode into the back of a parked car a couple times before I gave that habit up. No actual injuries beyond scrapes & bruises.

25

I’d give @Mama_Zappa the Stupid Injuries crown, but she’d probably cut her thumb on the points and get tetanus!

~VOW

26

:crown: OUCH!!! Or drop it on my foot, with similar results. There’s a reason I keep up with my tetanus shots!!

I’ve had electric shocks a couple of times too. Once at age 6, when for reasons that escape me, I stuck a safety pin into an outlet. The other time I was in my late 20s and it truly was not my fault: I was in a newly-refurbished apartment, had just washed a bowl, and set it down, still damp, on the stovetop - which as it turned out was not correctly grounded or something. It was a fairly unpleasant sensation.

I think others here top me in terms of the combination of severity and/or stupidity; mine (aside from the safety pin - and hey, I was SIX) were mostly due to the idiocy of thinking I’d actually learned how to walk.

27

Sliced my left index finger open last week - carving a wooden spoon with Swedish knives involves various techniques that look really dangerous (controlled/stopped cuts that look like they are toward yourself), but the techniques make it actually safer than an uncontrolled cut away from yourself.

I injured myself not when I was carving, but when I’d finished for the day. I put down the workpiece, and the safety precautions switched off in my brain. I went to push the knife back into its sheath, missed, and pushed it into my finger instead.

28

I once stepped back to admire my painting, completely forgetting I was on a step ladder at the time. Huge bruise all over the back of my arm.

Stupidest injury would be the time I fell into a doorframe. Ended up with sixty stitches in my forehead and a remarkable resemblance to Frankenstein’s monster.

29

I’ll bite - How does one fall into a doorframe?

30

It’s not at all difficult. I rolled my ankle once and smacked face-first into a door frame when I was walking (what else). Cut my cheek - I actually did a consult with a plastic surgeon, who said it looked unlikely to scar (she was right). No stitches, fortunately.

31

At work, I regularly and for near my entire life, stand up on two stacked milk crates so I can reach higher things. Once or twice I stepped off of them to realize I was on something much higher. Luckily, no injuries, just caught me off guard.

How about this one. About 5 years ago, I stepped on a lettuce core (it was about the size and shape of a quarter, trimmed off the bottom of the lettuce to make it look nice). I rolled my ankle and in the resulting half fall that happens when you roll your ankle I put my arm out to brace my fall and tore some cartilage in my shoulder. Shoulder surgery, months of PT, worker’s comp, partial disability and 5 or so years later that shoulder is always a little sore and wears out very quickly if I’m doing anything repetitive. I assume that’s going to be with me for the rest of my life.

32

Jumped from one rock to another at Disneyland’s Tom Sawyer’s Island.

That’s how I learned that my eyeglasses make things appear closer than they actually are.

33

I have several stories.

One - When I was five, I was scooting on my sister’s scooter. It was a bit big for me. Anyway, I lost control of it and, instead of stopping like any smart person would do, I scooted directly into a tree. I broke my thumb.

Two - When I was in the 4th grade or so, I was playing a game of pick up basketball. My friend passed me the ball and my uncoordinated self somehow caught the ball with my pinky on my right hand tucked in. After much complaining, my parents finally took me to the ER who took one look at my X-ray and sent us on a wild chase around Kansas City to a fancy orthopedist. Turned out I only cracked the growth plate.

Three - When I was in the fifth grade, I got to ride my bike to school. Unfortunately, I had a purple helmet that was just like the least cool guy in school. So, obviously, I couldn’t wear it. One day, when I was coming home from school, I hit a rock at just the right (wrong) angle and fell off my bike. Broke my elbow and got my first concussion. I was so confused, I wouldn’t get in the ambulance the neighbor lady called after seeing me take my spill.

Four - When I was in junior high, I played a game called Mat ball at school. This was basically indoor kickball except the bases were mats and you could have multiple people on a mat and you didn’t have to go to the next mat every time someone kicked the ball. Anyway, I was on my mat, looking at the next mat, waiting for my chance to go. The stars aligned and my chance came. I took it, running full speed at the next mat. I was gonna make it and be a sports start. Except, there was a volleyball net in the corner and I tripped over it. No matter, I still ended up on the mat… except there was also a brick wall behind the mat. That I ran into, with my head. Yes, I ran full-tilt into a brick wall. Knocked myself out too. That was my second concussion.

Finally, five - I was and still am a voracious reader. The summer that the fifth Harry Potter book came out, my friend and I went to a midnight party and got the books on the first day. We both went home and positively devoured those books. When I was done, I threw mine on my floor and promptly forgot about it. A few days later, the same friend was visiting and we were going to watch a movie. I went to my bedroom and collected the blankets so we would be warm for movie time. I stood on my bed, arms full of blankets, and stepped off. The next thing I knew, I heard four distinct pops and I was on the floor. See, I found my Harry Potter book, the fifth one, by stepping partially on it and rolling my foot over it. Tore the ligaments in my foot. I was in a boot for 6 weeks and almost had to miss Old Setllers.

34

By far the dumbest one, I went to pick up a miter cutter like this one at the end of a job.

I was about 300 miles from home. You can see it has a nice little handle on the top middle. Did I grab it by the handle? Nope, picked it up by the blade. Sliced a tendon in my middle finger. 15 years later and it still doesn’t work quite properly.

Now the damn thing is in a box in the shop just labeled “finger cutter.”

35

Both my injuries happened during the Vietnam war but didn’t involve the enemy - just me!

Up in a cherry picker, fixing a broken antenna wire on the tail of a C-130. Got distracted while stripping wire and sliced off most of the meat on the back of a thumb. Bled like a stuck pig. No permanent damage, just a lasting scar I call my war wound.

Inside a C-130 fixing a relay. Up on a stepladder. Leaned over a relay rack that normally has a plexiglass or plastic cover to prevent shock. Took multiple voltages direct to the chest, bounced me off the ladder halfway down the cargo compartment and the only thought going through my mind was the telegram my folks world get “your stupid son electrocuted himself”.

36

I’ve always had a hearing problem. I’ve always seen specialists who have determined “it’s a nerve loss and nothing can be done.”

I think I was seven when a confab of specialists decided they needed EXTENSIVE testing to finally decide what the loss entailed, and what, if anything, could be done about it. So I got plopped in a hospital and was scheduled for testing every day.

:::: Interruption for background info: my dad was a career man in the USAF, so I got all medical care through the military, including all the specialists, at no charge to my parents. My mom was a typical stay-at-home mommy of the 50s and 60s era, and did not drive ::::

The tests were audiometer tests, where you are locked in a soundproof booth and the technition plays various tones through your headsets, at various volumes. For variety, a sensor is clamped to the skull right behind your ear, and tones are sent through THAT. I have had SO MANY audiometer tests done through the years, I practically get PTSD just thinking about it!

The tests were done, day after day after day.

Now, I was a big girl, but hospital policy was such that children of my age are placed in CRIBS. All I did every day was SIT. If I had to pee, I had to buzz the nurse to drop the side of the crib so I could go down the hall to the bathroom.

After an eternity of this boredom (I don’t remember how many days. It seemed like forever), I made the grown up decision to let myself out of the crib.

Bad idea.

I got the side down part way. When I tried to fix it so it would go down ALL the way, I slipped and landed on the floor.

And busted my arm

That’s bad enough. However, I found out I was the doctor’s SECOND patient to do that.

~VOW

37

Running across the room and getting my own feet tangled up. I hit the side of my head on the door frame and slid down it which sort of tore my forehead open. (Saw my own skull!) The surgeon had to wash white paint chips out of the wound before he sewed me up.

38

Holy cow! <makes note to self to avoid all doorways>

39

Giving a new meaning to ‘get the lead out’.

40

I was drunk and trying to open a bottle of wine with one of those openers where you twist in the corkscrew and the arms come up then you push down the arms. The part you twist (often) doubles as a bottle opener.

The cork in the bottle was tight and not all the way out after pushing the arms down. It was really tough to pull out. So I sat down, put the bottle between my knees and leaned over to look down on the bottle as I pulled really hard to get the cork out.

You can probably see what is coming. The cork released suddenly and me, with my face right over it, jerked the wine opener into my forehead. That nice, thin piece of metal at the top of the opener whacked into my forehead and split the skin open pretty good.

As injuries go it was nothing super serious. No need for a hospital or anything (although if I went I would bet I would have gotten a few stitches) but head wounds bleed a lot and this one was a mess with blood running down my face in what looked like something from a horror movie.

Because I was drunk though it didn’t really hurt much and after cleaning myself up and a butterfly Band-Aid the evening continued.

But it sure was stupid.