When I was playing in a high school allstart football game. I slipped during practice and fell on a stake that was buried in the field. I managed to peel the muscle of my shin off of the bone down about four inches. I bounced after I hit the stake and looked down to see a think strip of red across my shin so I rolled over, landed on my back and called the coaches over so that they could call the ambulance for me.
Motorcycle accident no helmet like a moron.
Tore my chin up through my lip flayed open like a Predator almost.
Cut my tongue length wise about half way down.
Plus lots of bad deep scrapes and bruises.
My surgeon was the best ever, just a small scar that most people don’t notice.
When I was 28, I had a ruptured appendix that had been misdiagnosed and gone untreated until the next day, when I was very close to death from peritonitis. Then the surgery was botched, and for several months I had to walk around with a tube in my abdomen, and dressing that had to be changed twice a day. The incision didn’t fully close for two years, and I was still rejecting individual stitches for another two years. I now have a huge depression in the area, kind of like an enlarged “inny,” which is still occasionally painful, after 40 years.
My biggest regret was that I didn’t sue the incompetent ER staff and of course the surgeon. This was back in the ‘70s, and litigation was much less frequent than today.
Runner pat wins… 
Cut a thumb off, 9mm kidney stone that took surgery to remove, palm of hand burned & infected so the bones showed in about a 3" circle.
Various things stuck in me were kinda scary looking before being removed.
Things like ‘Runner Pat’ have & burn victims are the highest on my icky scale.
Seen a lot of really gnarly stuff on other people but I have so far been spared the really gruesome stuff on my own body.
Mine isn’t too bad compared to some. While hiking about five years ago, I slipped in the mud and fell hard. A few square inches on the outside of my left thigh absorbed almost all the impact when it hit a sharp rock protruding from the ground. Over the next day, my leg turned all kinds of pretty colors and a hematoma formed that was about the size and shape of a football (an American football). Sorry to disappoint, but I didn’t think to take any photos to share.
I had only one pair of pants that would fit over it at first, but bought more when I felt up to shopping which wasn’t too soon. It was weeks before I was able to fit into normal clothes and months before I could walk without a limp. I still have a slight dent in the side of my leg and partial loss of sensation in a small area above the knee, and the left leg is noticeably weaker than the right. All those aftereffects seem to diminish a little bit each year.
Knee surgery after a car accident. 30 years later, and I still have a scar that looks like a ten-inch centipede sitting on the side of my knee.
Recent memory, mountain biking, on a climb clipped in, back tire got hung up on a root and could not unclip in time. Handlebars went sideways and I went spread eagle. Before my hands hit the ground my abdomen, near the spleen area right below the rib cage landed on the upright handlebar grip. Boy did that took my breath away. Next day I awoke to an 8" wide bruise that started center of my abdomen wrapping around to the middle of back. Felt like I had done a thousand sit ups. Been almost 5 years and the imprint of the end of the handlebar remains.
15 years old, running through the woods, stepped on a small branch on the ground. Like some kind of trap, a strand of barbed wire immediately shot up in front of me. Nasty gash about 5" long and about 1/4 inch deep, and a hole the size of a nickel a little deeper than that gouged out.
Worst part for my, symptom of my childhood, was that my parents did not take me to a doctor and left me to take care of it on my own.
In grad school. Riding bicycle (uphill, I hasten to point out). Hit an obstruction and ran into a utility pole face first.
At first I thought it wasn’t too serious, but when I couldn’t chew anything tougher than applesauce I shrewdly realized that something was wrong. I looked at my face in the mirror and it looked “dented”. “Naw,” I thought, “You can’t dent a face!”
Wrong. It took the emergency room guys too lobng to figure it out, but I’d fractured my malar bone, and it had slide down my cheek, compressing my infraorbital nerve so that it was paralyzed. I also fractured the floor of my orbit, so my eye had dropped. I got plastic surgery only a couple of days later.
Afterwards, I didn’t look dented, but Frankensteinian. I had enormous, ugly stitches protruding from my face, which was variously blue, purple, and green in different places. Not to mention swollen. I wore an eyepatch at first, but then took a cue from the Terminator and covered up with dark glasses.
Within weeks, it had healed so well that you couldn’t tell there had been incisions in my face. Unbelievably good job. But, despite the plastic surgery, I still look like me.
When I was fifteen I decided I was going to cook roti, Indian flatbread, on the stove. I used far too much oil, and flipped the roti toward me instead of away from me. Oil splattered up my arm, from my hand all the way up to the top of my arm. The burns were horrifyingly painful and they were huge puffy blisters all over my arm. They were nasty. Mom took me to the ER and the guy had to lance the boils which made them look even worse.
I had my arm wrapped for three weeks and I had nightmares almost every night that my arm would come out black and scarred with burns and that it would never heal normally.
Funny enough, when it eventually healed and the scars came, the scars were almost exactly the color of my skin - caramel brown. I can still see the scars on my hand and my arm but that’s because I know exactly where they are; no one else can see them unless I take the time to point them out.
That was scary, though. They looked awful.
When I was 9 or so I was playing around running down the grassy hill in the front yard faster than my legs could keep up. I fell down on my arm hard and broke it. My arm had a z-shaped angle right above the wrist. Really weird to see. Surprisingly I don’t remember it hurting that much.
Well, you already beat me to it. I was draining potatoes, though. And I missed the sink just because I have lousy depth perception. (In fact, if I’m pouring boiling water on my foot, *lousy *may not be the right descriptor.)
By the time I could get my shoe and sock off, about 10 square inches of skin from my ankle and upper foot stuck to the sock. It was months before it healed over, and about ten years until the scars faded. Fortunately, it’s almost invisible now.
Gotta go with poison ivy. The blisters around my nostrils broke and crusted. 80% of my face was affected, and my eyes were nearly swollen shut. Got a day out of school and a trip to the doctor for that case.
motorbike crash. You can work out the affected parts. …afterwards they were black, bleeding, covered in blood blisters and about the size of grapefruit.
I needed something to take my mind off the shattered clavicle.
I did this a couple of times when I was a kid - both times I skidded superman-style (my chest bearing the brunt) - once on pavement, the other on gravel. Good times.
I was playing rugby, getting pushed backward during a ruck when the cleats on my right shoe caught in the ground. CRACK! Looked down and my foot was pointing the wrong way. The Physician’s Assistant on duty at the emergency department turned green when he saw it.
Back in college I had a bicycle crash and I put my top teeth through my upper lip. Total hole there until it got stitched up which was complicated by very friable skin around the wound.
As a kid, maybe age 10 or so, put bottom teeth through bottom lip during a bicycle wreck. That was an over-the-handlebars wipe out. Another through-and-through hole. That one was more of a pain as it was very difficult to eat until it healed.
And around age 7 I had a slip and fall while running through a forest. Hit my head on a stump of a sapling someone had cut for firewood. It split flesh just above my eyebrow and went all the way down to the bone. Got to see my skull!
I was walking my brand new puppy along the sidewalk in front of the store my teenage daughter worked at while waiting for her to finish her shift. Somehow I managed to trip over a crack free perfectly level sidewalk, cut my left hand between each knuckle, get road rash on the palm of the same hand and hit my face on the sidewalk breaking a tooth and getting road rash on my nose and chin. I have no idea and luckily this was before ubiquitous camera phones so there is no video record of this event.
I had 6 stitches and I still have scars across the back of that hand.
Luckily my husband was with me to pick her up and he drove us straight to the hospital with me saying the entire time - nothing to worry about, I’m fine. As blood poured out of my face and hand onto the sweater which had been lying in the back seat. We later dubbed it there car saver since it’s the only thing that kept the car from looking like a crime scene.
A motorcycle ran me over when I was 9 years old. The back tire tore the upper front area of my left arm apart. I could see my bone, muscle, ligaments…etc. I had a bathing suit on; I was on a beach in Perú.
Don’t do that again with the colander, don’t even take the risk! Soak it in water for ~2 minutes and it will slide right off! You took a big risk! 