For me, I think it was when I was playing in the yard, and saw one of my mom’s pots of dirt for her garden, and I thought “yeah this would be good to dump on my lap”
It was full of fire ants. Big, angry, north carolinian fire ants.
I was covered in red welts and all I remember is screaming at the top of my lungs while my mom sprayed me down with a hose
When I was 8 I tried to climb a cupboard, like 1 or 2 meters tall, fell on my back, had one of those fiction moments when time is too slow and I had to experience double pain, I couldn’t speak, move, and it was hard to breath.
physically or emotionally?
Ouch, felt that in my knee.
Parents told me I’m the cause of all their problems.
As a kid our alley in back was where all the neighborhood kids played. We all decided it was race time. Most of us were on bikes but I happened to have my roller blades on.
Important detail is that there was a pretty steep slope from one end of the alley to the bottom before it leveled out halfway down. Of course we start at the top, everyone’s getting speed and I’m focused so I don’t get the wobbles. I’m actually ahead and it’s me a Jorge going neck and neck until I hit a rock at the bottom.
I tucked and rolled (apparently about 5 times) before I land on my back and slide for another 15 feet.
Maybe it was bad enough for the ER but in that day and with my family we treated it at home if it wasn’t a broken bone or head wound. So I laid belly down on the couch while my Pops picked gravel out of my back and blotted me with peroxide and anticeptic. Overall it wasn’t as bad as some of my brothers’ accidents but it looked pretty gnarly.
I could have won dammit
Tried to stop a garage door of close up and broke my arm.
I placed my entire hand on a hot iron. For more than a few seconds - super dumb and ignorant.
Ended up having my entire hand wrapped in bamdages.
Take your pick:
3 years old I took a corner to fast at Mervins and almost took out my right eye on a glass shelf, 2 stitches.
6 years old I tried to do a backwards wheelie on my bike by jamming my foot in the front fork… while going down hill and carrying a load of oranges in my shirt. Went right over the handlebars, came to a stop on my chin. 13 stitches.
[…] I really wanted a broken arm, so people could sign my cast, but I never quite managed to break anything.
Let’s see…
- Accidentally stapled my thumb before school. Had to remove it before I left.
- Twisted my ankle from jumping off the swings and not landing correctly.
- Braked too hard on a wet, wooden surface on my bike and flew off it (I do mean flew, it was quite a few feet horizontally, and about 2 feet vertically in the air.)
- Playing catch with my father and got hit about an inch from my testicles. Thankfully no damage to them, but it hurt about as bad as you can imagine.
Surprisingly, no bones were broken, and I wasn’t an outdoorsy kid either.
I was playing cricket in the driveway with some neighbour-friends. There were three of us and each took turns to be bowler, batter, and fielder.
As an aside, I was quite a good cricketer when I was young and was eager to show my skills to my friends so when the ball was hit high and far over my head I ran as fast as I could to catch it.
I kept my eyes on the ball, head turned over my shoulder, impossible to see anything in front of me. After a second or three, I looked forward to get my bearings and as soon as I did the back of an old, metal bakkie (pickup truck I suppose) appeared out of nowhere.
I ran straight into it, face first. I remember looking down, through tears, at my hands where the blood pouring out of my mouth and pooling in my hands. The blood was flecked with a curious white substance that I later found out was half of my front tooth reduced to a fine powder.
Hard to rank them. When I was about 9 yrs old and cut of my left index finger with a leather scissor. Or when I flew over the top of a bike, down a steep road, and the asphalt took of all the skin of my right hand, and I got a wound right beneath my nose that still, 35 yrs later, looks like a booger when it’s cold. Or maybe when I was climbing around big farm machines and jumped from one to the other, and I slipped, and punched a hole in my shin with a metal corner. The shin didn’t break, just got a hole, and it hurt like hell…
There’s plenty more. But my guess is my finger, since the doctor messed up the operation, and I had to have 3 surgeries - and it still didn’t work properly after that.
Made an awkward turn while playing and had a knee subluxation. Brief agony until I “popped” it back in and insisted I was fine. Limped around for the rest of the day, hurt for the rest of the week. For several years after, it would randomly happen again, though less severe, quicker to recover, and less frequent between incidents. Didn’t bother to get it checked out since I heard any significant knee surgery would take me out of commission for some months. I’m still not sure if I’m completely over it yet. God forbid it happens to me on the stairs
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Worst I hurt myself: Older, much larger cousin broke my leg by landing on it in a bouncy castle.
Injury that pissed me off the most: At 13, I loved jiujitsu and rock climbing above all else. At my last jiujitsu class before going to California to, among other things, go bouldering in Joshua Tree, I sliced my heel badly on the metal bottom of the dojo door that had about an inch and a half of clearance from the floor.
Shoes in general, let alone those super-tight climbing shoes, were out of the question for two weeks. I’m still mad. Of all the ways I could’ve got hurt, it was the fucking door on the way out that took me down.
Went over a jump in my bike (not motorized). Got a nice amount of air time. Lost the bike. Bike went side ways. I was spread eagle over the bike. My nuts hit the something hard.
My chest hit the handle bars. Caved the chest a bit.
I broke my wrist sledding in the winter. Because I grew up in a rural area I had to wait 8 hours for a surgeon to come to the hospital I went to.
