So I’m draining the spaghetti and the pot slips, getting scalding hot water and spaghetti on my foot. The damage is so disgusting I cannot believe it. Bright red skin and big scarred over holes. I have never had a third degree burn before, and this one is absolutely revolting.
So let’s gross some people out! Describe your worst looking injury!
When I was like 12 I was riding my bike down a really steep hill and hit a deep pothole. I go over the handlebars, do a couple of rolls, then kind of stabilize on my left knee and slide down the rest of the hill on it, maybe 20-30 feet. Scraped off all the skin, blood everywhere. I swear you could see bare bone. A neighbor saw the whole thing and carried me home.
Still have a pretty gnarly scar, 20+ years later.
Mine was a bicycle crash too. I (age 12) was racing a kid on a mini-bike, he was on grass along the street, I was on the pavement. I don’t remember what exactly happened but I ended up sliding down the road mainly on my head and right shoulder. My hair protected my scalp pretty much but I had a really deep abrasion on my shoulder. It probably should have been looked at by a doctor but it wasn’t. Took forever to heal and I had a white scar through the winters that would instantly burn when exposed to sun in summer. As it was healing the scab would sometimes come off and leave what looked like a 3" diameter pepperoni pizza. That scar lasted for decades but gone now.
Another bicycle crash victim here.
When I was 8, I took a spill off of my bike on an area of crushed gravel. I had fairly good-sized road-rash abrasions on the palm of my left hand, and on my right knee. Despite some serious cleansing of the wounds by my parents, gravel dust had gotten into them, and they became very nasty-looking – somewhere between pizza sauce and chicken gravy.
It took weeks for them to heal up, even with daily cleaning of the wounds, and the scars (particularly on my knee) were noticeable for decades.
Attempting to restrain a freakishly strong husky dog, pulling to go a second round with a skunk down the side of the house, in the process got bounced off the concrete steps in the front. Couple of times. Of course I got skunked too, and there followed a considerable bathing episode which so consumed my attention, I failed to notice what was happening to my leg just below the knee.
When the bath was done and I changed my clothes there was frighteningly red swelling, the size of a foot long hot dog - in the bun. I could hardly walk the next day. When I went to the Dr, because it did not, ‘go down overnight’, I could see in her eyes her delight with something truly ooky. She got out a tape measure to record the dimensions!
I recovered just fine, but left the Drs office wondering how long you have to study so you don’t say, ‘eww!’, to your patients!
I suppose that this qualifies as an injury so I’ll post it. I’m so sensitive to poison oak that I will start reacting to in in hours. Even the palms of my hands will blister these days. The last time I stupidly managed to get into it, I was a weeping oozing mess from shoulder to fingers on both arms. Even with steroids it takes me weeks to get over it.
And to elbows I will say that the MD in the Urgent care place said “wow!” when he saw my arms.
A big purple bruise in my private part area. :eek:
Mine’s a bicycle injury, too…I skidded down the street on my face.
The whole left side was a scab. Somehow, I managed not to pick and it looks fine now but it was scary stuff.
When I was a kid I hopped over a wooden fence, threw my right leg over the top, and slid my bare foot down the other side. It took a couple of minutes to realize I had a thousand splinters in the bottom of my foot. My mother helped get the easy ones out with tweezers, but many were too deep and I just had to wait them out for the next few months.
More recently, I was scrubbing a colander with dried spaghetti, and in my vigor I ended up poking a dried, straight section directly under my large finger nail. A little bit was sticking out, but when I went to pull the strand out, it broke off, leaving about a quarter inch of pasta visible under my nail, with no way to get it out. After enduring the pain of an infection for a few days, I finally had the guts to hot-poke a needle thru my nail to drain it out.
Another time I killed my big toenail on a long hike, it lifted from the nail bed to allow the new nail to emerge underneath. I went to move some laundry with my foot and lo and behold, the nail lifted up like the hood of a car. A couple of snips with the clippers relieved me of the shocking sight.
Car wreck, middle of the night, country road. I climbed out of the gully and walked a quarter mile to a farmhouse. I could tell something was wrong with my foot but it was too dark to see. The nice lady at the farmhouse let me in and started washing my face. When I tried to look down she screamed “don’t look!” which distracted me at the time - I was pretty out of it. I eventurally talked her into calling my roommate who come over and drove me to the hospital.
Both knees were open to the bone and were laying open, filled with dirt from my climb. One tendon was cut through. My face was cut to shreds from the car window with bits of glass embedded all over my face (Yes, my beauty later returned. Thanks for asking).
30 years later people still ask me about me knee operations.
My chest was slashed open with a butcher knife when I was about 9 years old. Bled like a stuck pig. I still have the scar from 15 stitches.
When I was a teen, I helped a young kid put the chain back on his bike. The bike was upside down, and I was cranking the peddle by hand to make sure the chain was on good, then stuck my thumb in there to see if it had too much slack. Chain grabbed me, and the sprocket nearly tore the top of my thumb nearly off. Very ugly.
When I was very little my sister and I went down the slide together, so it was pretty tight. My hand was lying alongside me on the slide, my little finger against the side of the slide. As we slid down, there was no room for my little finger. It snapped the other way, and lay flat against my hand in the wrong direction, the bone poking through.
My mum’s face when I showed her: green. 
My cousin and I were about the same age when she had a bike spill similar to yours. She not only had the gravel dust, but she also had actual pieces of gravel embedded in her knee. I vote for the pizza sauce :eek:
I remember my dad taking a pair of tweezers and trying to pluck out the gravel while she leaned against my mother and my aunt screaming bloody murder. He managed to get most of them out and bandaged her up. It became infected a day or two later and she was taken to the local ER. It was years before she attempted to ride a bike again.
The only injury that ever made me queasy to look at was a chemical burn to my cornea when I was 8 or 9. The optometrist cheerfully allowed me a close up look at it with one of his instruments. Eww.
Poison oak for me, too.
When I was a teenager, I was near where someone was burning brush with poison oak in it. The next morning every inch of skin that was exposed to the smoke was covered in an oozing rash including my eyes which were swollen shut and crusted over.
Bloody hell mate. How did that happen?
I was hit on my bicycle.
Recluse bite?
Well, I made a medical student throw up once, but that wasn’t so much the wound as the context of it and a few other things.
I once had a front wheel snap off my bicycle while racing down the road and wound up skidding several hundred yards on my forearms, pretty much scraping most of the skin off my arms from wrists to elbow. Blood, fluids, bits o’ gravel… It was pretty disgusting and took about six weeks to heal up.
