My husband just came to bring me lunch at work today. I noticed a very pronounced limp as he crossed over to me. He rolls up his pant leg and shows me this first sized welt on his shin.
It turns out he had dropped a muffler on his shin while replaceing it on the Grand Am. Now we have to go get it X-rayed tonight when I get off work, because ti keeps swelling.
So what is the worst self-inflicted wound you have suffered?
Last Memorial Day weekend, I fell out of the back of a truck and broke my left hand. I shan’t comment on what caused me to fall out of the truck, but I will say that Canadian members of the opposite sex were involved.
I had a cast for 8 weeks. Got lotsa phone numbers written on it too . . .
I also lost two teeth playing hockey, but that really wasn’t self-inflicted. (The dentist made me fake teeth so’s I can smile).
Gentlemen, you need to know how to play your injuries for maximum benefit. Trust me 
Tripler
If “dumbass antics” were an Olympic Sport, I’d be reigning champ. . .
I took out small chunks of my arm with a razor blade in july. It looks like its gonna scar kinda since theres still an identation where it’s located. I’t didn’t really even bleed that much either.
Put my arm through a window. Someone stole something from me, and I was chasing him. He went outside so I stuck my hand out to ram the door open. It was locked.
This was hardened safety glass with those little wires running through it, yet even so I sent most of the window flying someodd 10 feet. It tore 4 gashes in my arm (which required a total of 5 stitches, so they werent incredible or anything).
Then the doctor who stiched me took great offense as I cursed his idiot ass out. For, you see, he had not frozen me properly, and I did not take kindly to the feeling of metal thread being drawn through my flesh.
And Trip, I’ll take you up on a division of that…
If “Dumbass Antics with Sharp Objects” were in the olympics, I’d be unbeatable.
Last week I took a frozen lasagna out of the microwave and dropped a steaming forkful of sauce and cheese right down my cleavage, sustaining a second degree burn. I do believe this qualifies for some sort of award.
There was a small “canyon” near where I lived in San Diego when I was a kid. (I think they called it “Brundage Park”, but I’m not sure.) The sides were covered with dry grass. When I was eight, a friend and I found a pice of sheet metal. We decided to slide down the slope on it. Well, the metal was slick. I slid off of the front and my friend slid off of the back. I was sitting on my butt with my legs pointed downhill and I was leaning back on my arms. My friend got back on the sheet metal, which started down the hill. It sliced my wrist badly. I still have the scar about 30 years later. I tell people I tried to kill myself. Then I tell them “Just kidding!” and tell them the truth.
Maybe it’s not really self-inflicted because it was my friend who got back on the metal. But in a way it is self inflicted because we were both playing.
Does falling off a ladder count? While housepainting back in the late Seventies, I did a reverse triple-gainer onto my head… about fifteen feet onto concrete. Ended up in ICU for three days with a major concussion. Never even got to see the judges’ scorecards.
If the fall doesn’t count, I cracked a bone in my forearm while chopping wood with a heavy maul. Wowie-zowie, ringy-dingy, MAN, that hurt!
OrcaChow reminded me of another injury when I was ten. There were uneven bars at the elementary school for doing pull-ups and the like. The “thing” to do was called a “sit-around”. You would sit on top of the bar with your knees hooked over it and fling yourself backwards, circling the bar and returning to the sitting position. I flung myself backwards, lost my grip on the bar, and landed on my right arm, breaking the outer bone (the radius?) at the wrist.
Oh. Does blowing out my right anterior cruciate ligament while skiing count? How about a head-on collision that broke my right femur and left kneecap (and my nose, slightly) exactly one year later?
Does loving someone who turns out to have not deserved being loved count?
Or are you only looking for physical injuries?
Scotti
Let’s see:
I almost knocked myself out attempting, well, making a rather large jump on my snowboard. The landing was less than spectacular.
I dropped a glob of hot-glue from a hot-glue-gun on my wrist when I was 12, before I could do anything about it, it had dried to the skin and I had to rip it, and the skin off. I have a nice dime-sized scar to remind me of the pain (hot-glue stays hot for some time, let me tell you). :eek:
I jumped off of a bike by hopping back off the seat and out over the back wheel, pushing the bike forward. I was clear, except for the newspaper rack that had a bolt sticking out. I have a nice rip-scar on the back of my knee from that.
Speaking of, my knees are all scar-tissue from so many dirt-bike wrecks as a child, I’m surprised I’m not still pulling out gravel.
Finally, I was reffing a paint-ball game and running through the woods when I ran smack into a cross-bow bolt sticking out of a tree. It ripped my shirt, knocked the wind out of me and left a real nice, 6-7" scar across my ribs. Strangely, it’s gone my.
It does. You get the Hot Fromage in the Décolletage award.
lemme see… I snapped a pocket knife shut of my index finger (on accident)
I was picking away at a cast on my left arm with a pocket knife, and it became dull, so I grabbed another one (small, souvenier non-lockback) and picked away… at a INCREDIBLY tough piece, I tried to force it to break the cast when the knife snapped shut on my index finger. slicing it half-way through and smacking into the bone.
Then, This year (a couple months ago) I was helping my friend and his family build a fishhouse. we (my friend’s co~worker (it was gonna be a company fishouse) and I) were placing pieces of 2-in plywood on a plexi-glass table to cut the floor-holes out with a jigsaw. well… see, each piece of plywood weighed in around at LEAST 85lbs, and we needed to toss it up onto the plexi-glass table to avoid finger cuttage. I forgot that on the 4the piece of plywood. we eased it up onto the table, and pushed, forgetting my figner was there. it instantly cut my finger (right index) and severed the nerves. seeing as I couldn’t feel it, I kept on pushing, slicing the skin all along my finger off… thank GOD it grew back…
I’ve had 4 broken bones. 2 -left wrist (full-contact rollerblading, and full-contact baseball) 1 right thumb (smashed it in Lake Michigan) 1 middle finger, smashed it when fell backwards in chair
I’ll think of more…
Uh, make that “Strangely, it’s gone now.”
((((((Scotti!))))))
Lemme see here, this might play like the scene in lethal weapon…
This scar over my left eye came about after I took a header into a speaker, I got a minor concussion and 6 stiches. Then there’s this little beauty under my chin that was caused by a demonic hobby horse when I was four. I have a three inch scar on my left wrist which was more impressive looking when I was six, back then it circled my whole wrist and was due to a cut off bike fender.
I have broken bones in my feet more times than I can count caused from placing said feet against other people’s heads with extreme prejudice. I have scars across my knuckles from a multitude of sources, some of them were vehicularly based and others more organic in cause.
There is some damage to my right shoulder from an old skiing accident and I have one collarbone that just doesn’t match after a tumble I took down a flight of stairs.
My best SII (self inflicted injury) lately was the damage I did to my knee playing hockey. Eight weeks later I am about as mobile as ever but there appears to be some nerve damage so that I have no sensation in a palm sized section of my skin there. The doctor says the feeling might come back eventually.
So far I haven’t been able to electrocute or set myself on fire but I’m still relativily young… there’s still some time to add some battle scars.
The injury was bad enough, but the stupidity behind the injury. . .
I was ironing and stood the iron up on the end of the board. I turned slightly, pulled the cord of the iron with my foot and sent the iron off the end of the board. Now here’s the stupid part. I stuck my hand out and caught the red-hot appliance in the palm of my hand.
When I was about 7 I was climbing a fence and when I went to switch over to go down I lost my balance feel about 7 feet and landed directly on the spot where the neck meets the back. It knocked the wind out of me, my extrimities tingled for about an hour, and I couldn’t really move. Later that day I shrugged it off and ramped my bike higher than anyone ever in the existence of this planet (ok I may be fibbin’ a lil bit) kinda flew of my bike did a funny roll kinda thing ended up landing on my face.
Neither one of those really compare to the time I was playing football with some friends and one of them dislocated my kneecap. I don’t know how they did it but I was in full stride they hit the kneecap perfectly then wham I went down instantly. I had a limp for a good week or two after that. Other than that though I’ve been pretty lucky.
Ah, injuries.
Arguably the worst was slicing my finger down to the bone while attempting to juice a lime with a knife.
That alone wouldn’t have been so bad, but while I have no problem with seeing other peoples’ blood, my own is another matter. I had no idea where a hospital was, having just moved into the area, and I was about to pass out anyway, so I dialed 911. While waiting for someone to show up, I decided I should keep the finger cold, but my refrigerator was nearly empty – except for a few baggies of frozen hamburger. Hmm.
The cop who showed up was kind enough to give me a ride to the hospital, where the nurses were somewhat grossed out at the thawing-ground-beef-in-a-bag pressed to my bleeding digit. Eventually, when the doctor finally got around to sewing me up, they discarded it, which killed one perfectly good potential dinner.
The doctor didn’t fall for the “will I be able to play the violin when this heals?” line, BTW.
I sure got my money out of my insurance that year, what with the surgery to reconnect the nerve I severed and all that. . . . It still feels strange, and my fingerprint in the nerve-damaged area is noticeably deteriorated.
Although I suppose a near-injury I got was a little scarier.
I’d taken to the habit of brewing a gallon of tea every day in the office microwave – take one big glass jug, microwave on high until boiling, throw in a couple of teabags, haul it out with gloves, and drink throughout the day. Wunderbar.
One day, someone did me the favor of capping that jug while I was away from the microwave. With a steel cap.
I noticed the jug sparking in there, thought, “Oh, cr*p!”, pulled it out, and . . . decided I’d better open it.
Really dumb move.
The resulting cone of superheated water left a two-foot circle on the ceiling. I got hit in the face by the steam off the edge of it, and some of the water poured across my left wrist. My watchband channeled it a bit, so the second-degree burns left a weird scar pattern there.
Fortunately, my eyes were only slightly steamed; as the ophthalmologist explained, steam doesn’t have much heat content, so it doesn’t do nearly as much damage as boiling-hot water. Both eyes felt gritty for a couple of days, my wrist was bandaged for a few weeks, and the microwave was just fine.