What's the stupidest thing you've ever done to injure yourself?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
81

My best friend said I could add his story. I’ll tell it as he told it to me:

As kids, we were building a fort of “liberated” lumber in the woods. One of the kids took a very long board and nailed it to a very short roof. I am very anal and could not live with the diving-boardlike appendage. I sawed it off. Only trouble was, I was on the wrong end of the board. That was the first time I ever broke a bone. That coyote got nothing on me. Now I’m a carpenter.

He is, in fact, a very talented carpenter now.

Peace,
TN*hippie

P.S. MONTY2, I think that Flaming Slug Bucket would be a great name for a band.

82

Played catch with my mother.

83

I was in high school, my best friend and I found some model rocket engines. We decided to launch them out of a paper towel tube using a stripped extension cord. One of them circled around and hit me in the arm- I was wearing a rayon shirt that melted causing the engine to stick to me until it burned out. Huge black mark on my arm, third degree burns and a scar that is still there.
Try topping that one for stupidity.

84

I already did.

85

drinking and running don’t mix

After consuming way too many apple martinis one Sunday evening we decided that driving was out of the question (I’m a klutz, not stupid), so we started walking and agreed that we would grab a cab as soon as we saw one - home was a little over three miles from the bar.

Two miles into the trek my brain goes through the following thoughts:
It will be warmer at home.
There have been no cabs.
There are going to be no cabs.
If I run I will be home sooner.
I should start running.

I was wearing army boots (the more one drinks, the heavier these get) and a skirt. I managed to get about seven good steps before I hit a crack in the pavement, twisted my ankle 180 degrees and fell with all my weight on it. Snap. But wait there’s more. The person with whom I am stumbling home makes fun of my falling so what do I do? I get pissy and stomp home the last mile.

I make it to bed that night and in the morning wake up with a splitting apple martini hangover. Mind you this is now Monday morning and I have to go to work. I swing myself out of bed only to collapse on the floor. My ankle was the size of a bowling ball.

Two months in a walking cast and physical therapy. Now I know the number to yellow cab and carry change with me.

86

At 14, i have already had a variety of injuries to share. Luckily though, nothing broken or in need of stitches. few eeks ago I managed to put a nice gash across my finger with a serrated bagel knife. Ouch.

I’m not alone with pencils and points. Several years ago on our usual trip to the beach, a long drive, we were going back to the van after a rest stop. I happened to be drawing and had some pencils in the cup holder. Right in the direction I was sitting. Let’s see, pencil sharp enough to puncture thick jeans and boxers and enter feft butt cheek. Ow. And the humilation for the rest of the trip being known as “Two Hole in Butt”.

Another pencil story. Trying to get my pencil back from a friend at lunch. I unwittingly stab myself with it. I have a black dot centered in my palm as of today.

Last story. Younger, in the forest behind my house, cutting rope to tye things together with. Knife not sharp. Hatchet on hand. Bad aim. You do the math. It took 2 months for my thumb to grow the end back.

87

What I can think of off the cuff:

  1. At 12, riding my BMX bike, there was a rock that could act as a ramp at the bottom of a steep hill, said rock was 6 feet or so above ground. Most guys were afraid to try to jump off of it, but since my new (and first) going steady girl was there, I was obligated to try. However, I misjudged the required force for a clean lift from rock, and ended up coming down first, the bike second, on top of me. Back busrts with pain on landing, the padded support on the handlebars smacks me in the mouth, which gave good fulcrum for the seat to connect last…

  2. At 16, a buddy and I had identical balisongs (what most peeps call butterfly knives) we would trade off so that we could practise with two at the same time. Since I did tricks, I kept mine pretty dull, thinking that it would be for the best. Showed my then girlfriend some moves, and she seemed properly impressed (“seemed” being accurate, in hindsight). She was concerned about me cutting myself, and by this time her parents were there and expressed concern as well. I reassured them that I kept it dull, and wasn’t sharp at all, running the edge against my palm. Nope, mine wasn’t; my buddy’s on the other hand…

  3. Just a few months ago, was working on moving one of our data centers, which involved removing numerous routers and switches from racks for packaging. I was unscrewing the units, two peeps would help take it out. I got tired of waiting for one of the two man crews to come back and help, so I started taking them out by myself, I’m such a burly strong man. Boss yells, other people yell that I was going to hurt myself. Hah! What do these pencil neck geeks know? I’m a redneck geek, and a burly strong man. I actually got them all out, and then went to check on the packing process, I noticed a big cisco switch was sticking out into aisle, and afraid someone might damage it (not worried about what it might do to the person hitting it, you understand) I decide to twist it straight and against a wall. Grabbing the thing, and instead of using shoulders and legs to do it, burly strong man twists with his back. Burly strong man spends next two days in hotel room waiting for lower back to reassemble (at least that what it felt like).

And finally, this wasn’t me, but one of my favorites. The first holiday season I was married, one of my older sisters came home from college, and met my future ex-wife for the first time. We decide to go shopping for gifts. The two get along well and the day passes. As we are walking back to car, they are having an animated discussion (by this time I had learned the art of tuning out). As we turned a corner on the side walk, both women are looking at each other talking, me in the middle carrying all the bags (burly strong man). My sister notes that future ex-wife is walking straight into a parking meter and frantically gestures to her about this. Future ex-wife, meanwhile, notices sister is going to run into a tree, and gestures frantically back. Both hit, with a remarkable synchronicity of timing, I continue walking, hoping other people in the street don’t connect me to them.

88

I was 11 years old and fell off a footbridge at Boy Scout camp. Don’t ask me how I fell off, I don’t even remember getting onto the bridge. Put a 1/2" crack into my skull. Spent a week in the hospital and another 4 months in bed healing. Upon hearing of this, most folks I know nod knowingly and say, “That explains a LOT.”

89

Bludgeoning myself on the back with an open stapler was pretty stupid.

90

In kindergarten, we had an outdoor eating area with redwood tables and benches. During one recess, I was chasing a girl through the lunch area. Instead of zigging and zagging around the tables, I decided to run over the top of one to cut her off. I jumped off of the top of the table, my foot misplanted and the side of my face caught the rough edge of a redwood bench. I was severely scraped from chin to temple with embedded splinters. School pictures were a few days away.

This was but the first in a long list of self-imposed pain as a result of persuing the opposite sex!

91

I did not injury myself, or anyone else for that matter, but it was wicked stupid, and could have been lethal.

One morning, I woke up late for work. I was rushing around frantically trying to catch up. Of all mornings, one of the kids left a light on in the truck, and the battery was too low to start it. Not a problem, I have a key to the wife’s van on my work key ring, I’ll start the van, jump my truck, and I’ll be gone in no time.

Start van, hook up cables, start my truck, disconnect cables, and I’m out in 2 minutes.

I get to work, 30 minutes later, and discover that I don’t have my work keys, so I can’t unlock the door. I go the the nearest pay phone and call the wife. I tell her that I probably left them in the van, will she check…

Well, I’m sure you see this coming, but the keys are in the van, and the van is still running…in a closed garage.
She nearly passed out, the CO detector goes crazy the second she opens the door to the garage.

I still cringe every time I think about this. My wife and 3 kids were in the house, and they could have been seriously injured or killed because I could not be late for work.

Made me think about my priorities that day.

92

Sorry, hypergirl but cutting towards yourself is STUPID no matter how you cut it (well you know0.

93

Alcohol + Bicycle + Riding Down Porch Steps = Bruised Tailbone.

Absolutely the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life!:eek:

94

15 years old–shredding paper with a switchblade . . . cut the index finger up real nice-like.

95

I caught the edge of my finger with a file during metalwork. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t looked at the blood (a measly drop) and passed out head first into the spot welder.

At the age of four, I fell off a swing and managed to break my wrist raising my arm to call for help. At the age of eight, I fell off my roller skates whilst crossing the room to take my watch off in case I broke it. Same arm, three operations, eleven months in plaster.

96

While we are at it…a bunch of 4th grader in the school hall. Can’t go out side because its raining cats and dogs. Bright idea, let’s play touch football in the hall. Gelding, go down by the unreinforced glass door for a long one. It’s been 50 years but the scars on my wrist are clearly visible.

If I think a little I can come up with more. Running with a morter shell comes to mind.

They say that God looks out for idiots. He’s kept an eye on me.

97

And makes me feel so much better about my bouts with stupidity (and injury).

King of the list has to be when I was a senior in college: I had this obnoxious, and asking-for-it, gag of pounding on a friend’s window with both fists to scare the stuffing out of my friends. Hey, it was funny! We all laughed! And it always worked best on the Ain’t-Scared-of-Nothin’ type of boys that I befriended.

Well, I was asking for it, and one time, I got what was coming to me: I put both hands right through Mike’s window. I was so startled that I’d broken the window I didn’t realize I was bleeding. Result? I severed a frickin’ tendon in my pinkie. Little pinkie needs plastic surgery for repair. Little pinkie is in a sling for weeks. Little pinkie receives physical therapy for months. Pretty pathetic for a pinkie!

Classroom Story: This isn’t about me, but a future Doper who will be adding his perspective on this story in a few years. Just a week ago, one of my students complained that his hand hurt. Usually students complain about this when they’ve gotten a rope burn or blisters playing tetherball, or have a hangnail, or just want to get out of doing the writing assignment. Thinking I’m going to see a very minor boo-boo, I go look at the boy’s finger. From palm to fingertip, it’s grey–blue practically–and swollen to disfiguring proportions. Its only protection is the band-aid pitiously wrapped around the center of it. (The boy, meanwhile, is as nonchalant as if he did indeed just have a blister or hangnail…)

Alarmed, I send him to the nurse. Alarmed, she sends him home. He shows up the next day in a splint, telling me he’d broken it. How, pray tell? He and a friend were smashing rocks inbetween two bricks. His friend didn’t wait long enough for my student to remove his hand from the two bricks, and SMASH!

I just told DeathLlama: we are NOT having boys!

98

When I was two- Hmm, I’m about at that age where I should start shaving my face. Took a razor and put it on my upper lip, and while applying a great deal of pressure, moved it down. Whoops. I have a scar now b/c of that.

Around 4 or 5 years old- That light bulb is bright, I should touch it. Whoops.

Around 8 or 9- I was riding a horse for the first time. I called the horse a donkey. I think I pissed the horse off b/c it turned a bit and ran me right into a big tree branch, cutting my ear. I deserved that.

10 or 11 years old- While riding my four wheeler. I thought standing on a 4 wheeler while going fast was fun, turned out not to be. When I stood up my left foot slipped and fell to the moving ground, ran my foot over. After I did that I decided I had enough 4 wheelin’ for that day and crawled into the house. Limped for a week.

17 years old- I spilt some soda into a keyboard and I had to get the keys off so I could clean the pop out. Well, I took a knife and started popping the keys off. After getting about 5 or 6 keys off, I went to put my thumb on the dull side of the blade so I could get a good grip, it wasn’t the dull side but really the sharp side. I really needed stitches but I hate going to the doctor/hospital so I didn’t. It took a month before it finally started to heal. My thumbprint is really freaky now.

99

I’ve probably told this story here before, but what the heck:

In high school, maybe 9th or 10th grade, I left my house to walk to a friend’s house… maybe a mile or so away. It was evening, so as I walked out the door I did what everyone does: look up at the sky to see what’s up in the amateur astronomy department (everyone does this, right? I STILL do it, to this day… even though here in Seoul I ain’t gonna see nothin’! You know who teases me about this…).

So, gawking open-mouthed at the sky like a fool, I stepped right off the porch without looking!

Results:
-torn ligament or tendon (can’t remember which it was!).
-surgery to re-attach said ligament or tendon.
-months in a cast.
-a KICK-ASS scar running from just below my ankle-bone to mid-calf.
-several more months in casts (Several episodes…it was fixed, but it ain’t the same! No more basketball for me!;))
-occassional “achy-ness” (Maw! Ya better fetch in the cleanin’! Ma ankle sez it’s a-gonna rain!).
-a really cool CLICK noise to gross out Astrogirl when I rotate my foot… it feels like the re-attached ligament or tendon is kind of stretching and then snapping over the ankle-bone…

[sup]Little-known fact: Einstein was on his way to a successful basketball career before an ankle injury pushed him into physics! Source: Larson.[/sup]

100

There are many pictures of me as a baby with a black eye. My family tells me (I am the youngest.) that I was rather clumsy and accident-prone, but I have always prefered to think that they beat me and stole my inheritance.

Well, lemme see, the things I have hitherto been unable to blot out of my memory are:

2nd grade - running through a field with my older brothers, aiming for a large tin can and ignoring my brothers’ screams ‘don’t kick that, there is a wasps nest in there!!!’
I kick it hard and keep running as I hear the painful screams of my wasp-bitten brothers behind me. The pain that was administered to me by my brothers later was well worth it. (OK, that’s not exactly me being hurt by accident, but I still caused myself undue pain.)

4th grade - still not respecting elders. Science teacher tells class not to stick any fingers into boiling sugar. I gotta find out for myself… (This is where I first learned to put warm water on a burn…)

5th grade - drowned trying to prove I could swim to the ‘big kids raft’ It doesn’t hurt going down, but coughing water up from your lungs after the lifeguard saves you hurts like hell!!

6th grade - decided to check a short fuse on a firecracker to see if it was lit by looking at it reeeeeaaaaaal close.
It was one of the few times in my early life I was thankful to have glasses.

7th grade - first lawnmowing job. Grass is wet and clumpy. It clogs up the mower chute. I stick a hand in to pull the grass out. (Did I mention the mower was still running?) Luckily the mower blade nicked the tip of my index finger before I had a chance to put my hand the rest of the way in. My finger and hand throbbed as I finished mowing and first contemplated the idea that work just sucks.

11th grade - tried to stop a skidding motorcycle from dumping on a gravel road with my forearm. Went into my Grandma’s trailer for help/comfort and was met with a loud “GET THAT BLOODY STUMP OUT OF HERE YOU IDIOT!!!”
(I love my family!)

11th grade - walked into the back of a roadsign while trying to wave to a teacher I admired…

Then there were the things I did while drunk…well, I actually never got hurt while I was drunk, just chased by angry Russian-speaking men with loaded machine guns, and another time by angry British men with loaded machine guns, but but those are other stories for another thread…