Skool daze
I had three teachers at school who were missing body parts:

Mr Atkinson, Geography
Owner of one metal leg

Mr Riley, Woodwork
One stylish eye patch

Mrs Bell, English
One plastic hand

Dont know if it was school policy to hire ex-circus staff but if you happened to be in a corridor when all three walk past simultaeneously, you could pretend you were on the Jolly Roger or in Vietnam.

Gawd bless 'em...
( prem1um is full of life, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:38, Reply)

one leggyness
when i was a wee babe, due to complications at birth, i had a foot lopped off. Pretty drastic, in some ways, but one has to make the best of a situation, and consequently, as i am a man of mischevious ways, i found many many ways to make it as amusing as possible. Clearly, as i went to the same school as the legendary Scaryduck (and am in fact immortalised in one of his stories here : www.geocities.com/coleman66uk/life/corridor.html ), the possibilites were vast, to say the least..
Dawned the day of the first cross country run for 1st years - the legendary (and appropriately named, natch) 'sewers course'. A hundred or so skinny pasty 11 year-olds lining up at the top of the playing field, quaking in anticipation of the stinky horrors of running through a couple of miles of effluent, made worse by the Big Boys in the upper years, who'd made a point for weeks of relating the legends of the kids who'd taken the Big Step into the quag. Fuck this, I thought, and 'accidentally' released the retaining mechanism of my placcy leg. Cue the start - 99 kids leg it across the field, one takes one step forwards, performs a graceful face plant into the sward, leaving an upright leg on the start line. not a big problem, really, except for the reaction of the slightly retarded bloke that was driving the mower that day - had to be calmed down by the majestic welshness of mr Curtis, the games teacher - who could barely talk, he was laughing so much... never did do a cross country run.
Some years later, at Reading central swimming pool, a municipal pool of epic mankyness, saw me rolling around on the floor, stump covered in ketchup, shouting "shark! shark!", and spending the rest of the session hooting at the sight of mothers dragging their terrified children into the pool, giving me the most evil eye...
Twisting the old fake leg thru 180 degrees and walking along usually provides much mirth, too. Should know better, at 38, but what the hell....
(micky2shoes has more shoes than feet, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:37, Reply)

Gooey lumps
On one particular occassion when I was about 9 or 10, I had occassion to be swinging about on a rope in the cellar. It was all great fun, with my brother and me taking it in turns to swing about like so many little monkeys.

My little sister (then aged about 5) soon tired of this little game, and decided instead to play with a pole from a wardrobe. Where it came from is still a mystery, but what happened next is certainly not.

It was my turn on the bit of rope, and I pulled myself up with my arms. At this exact moment, my little sister decided to charge me with the pole and jabbed me in the leg. This caused me to let go, and be impaled in the pole.

She pulled the pole away quickly, and an inch wide, inch and a bit deep lump of flesh flopped out of the back of my leg and stuck to my skin.

I couldn't actually feel anything wrong, so everyone screaming made me a little curious, so I felt the back of my leg. I put my finger in the hole, thought "hmm, that's not right", and promptly set off upstairs.

My mum's friend, a little on the squeamish side, had popped round for a cuppa at some point during this commotion.

"I think I've cut myself" says I, really not bothered because my nerves were either in tatters or in shock. I turned round to demonstrate, and said friend promptly fainted.

Turns out that just plopping the lump back in and holding it in place with sticking plaster was sufficient, and I now sport a lovely horseshoe shaped scar on the back of my left leg. It has stretched as I have grown, so it is a respectable 2 inches across now, and provides a great talking point every time I take my trousers off in front of complete strangers.

No apologies for length. You love it, you filthy minx.
( Evil|berT is posting post-hummusly, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:36, Reply)

I left my heart in San Francisco
I left my knees in Japan
I left my liver on the Yangtse River
and now I'm only half a man.

(does anyone know where this comes from? I can't remember)
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:36, Reply)

Painage of the worst variety....
...was having appendicitis and subsequent removal of appendix aged 12.

I was having severe stomach pains, so my mum took me to my doctors who referred me straight to A & E. Spewed diced carrot all over the car on the way, ended up at Birmingham kids hospital hanging out the window in agony, with vomit hanging from my chin.

From what I can remember the registrar, doctors and nurses had a debate about whether I would be admitted there or to adults A & E. Then they realised my appendix hadnt burst so got me into pre-op quicktime before it did. My mum, dad and three fine nurses were in the room, watching me writhe about in pain.

Then it happened.

Humiliated already by being undressed and put in a hospital gown in front of everyone, one of the nurses helped me to roll over on the bed and proceeded to insert a suppository up my arse in front of everyone. I was suffering a lot and couldnt protest but once my appendix was taken out and i was back at home recovering, all i could think of was my bum on show to the nurses.

Oh the shame.
( prem1um is full of life, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:32, Reply)

far from missing any of my parts

I actually have three nipples.

The extra one is much smaller, and just below one of the normal ones.

It's actually not that freaky to look at, it looks more like a birthmark. But it's a real nipple, it goes hard when it's cold etc.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:31, Reply)

I lost the tip of my little finger
in a car door when I was 8. My Uncle Del told me it would grow back but of course it didn't.
(ddbddb, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:26, Reply)

My girlfriend
grew up in Mexico where it seems they are quite relaxed about young children playing with sharp things.

When she was about 4 she was playing with a machete with her cousin, who swung it and sliced her open just below the ear.

A few years later, helping an aunt grind cinnamon she got her finger caught in the mill. The aunt was an amateur nurse and cleaned it up a bit. Now well enough it seems as when her Mum checked it a few days later the finger had turned black. Apparently it was verging on gangrenous and almost had to be amputated.

Finally, aged 14, she decided she wanted to open a coconut so, naturally, went and got her uncle's machete. Whack! End of her thumb left dangling.

How she still has a full complement of digits I don't know.
(The Sun King, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:25, Reply)

Teeth
I tried to loose some teeth by getting in a really hot bath after a big meal then getting out again. Though I mashed my face on the sink in the bathroom when I fainted, I still kept my teeth.

I tried again by kneeling on a skateboard and going down a kerb and onto a small pile of gravel. Skateboard stopped, I didn't, landed on my face. Half of my front tooth came off (only half!?!? I was gutted).

When I was getting patched up, the sadist that had capped my tooth noticed that my teeth were a bit squint. He recommended me for a brace. 4 teeth removed and one brace fitted later I lost my marbles from 2 years of very little sleep (due to wearing evil Lisa Simpson style headgear like this to bed).

So I never did manage to loose my teeth, but who cares, I dream about them going rotten and falling out in little pieces every night. Nice.
(ralphseviltwin, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:24, Reply)

Fucking sandpaper
Once,at a bus stop,I was standing with a rather pikey kid (he once fucking tried to charge me the money he'd spent texting me!) and he'd stolen a load of sandpaper from the school woodwork rooms. As we'd been waiting for the bus for a good few hours,we got bored,and we wondered if it would hurt if you sandpapered your skin.

Me being the resident masochist,i rolled my sleeve up,and the pikey got to work on my arm. After a few seconds the sandpapered skin got fucking hot,and i told him to stop. I looked and i had a fucking massive piece of skin rubbed away,it stung like fuck,and for the next few weeks,gross skin goo stuck my sleeves to the scab.

I seem to loose abnormal amounts of skin,on the pavement from a hoem made go kart accident,from allergic reactions to zit cream...I look like a fucking zombie a lot of the time.

Wow,just realised how much I say fuck..
(Miharu, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:19, Reply)

I had 2 extra teeth
Apparently 1 is very rare and 2 is virtually unheard of. It wasn't like they were between your normal teeth, they come through the top of your mouth.

I needed an hour long operation to have them taken out even though I wanted to keep them coz they were cool.
Nearly 15 years later there's still 2 dimples where they used to be.

I've also lost several bits of the my big toenail which keeps ingrowing but that's not as interesting.
( thistle, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:13, Reply)

pilonidal cyst
I am yet another poor bugger who has suffered from a pilonidal cyst on the top of my arse crack. Thought i had dislocated my tail bone for a while until it burst on my sofa and the liquid that was released was the most foul smelling thing ever. I feel sorry for the poor surgeon who had to sort it out and drain off what remained.

Also had to get a new sofa as the old one reaked no matter how much it was cleaned.

Kinda related as i lost fluid
(hairymonkey, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:10, Reply)

Big Fight With Dad
My Dad went a bit "mental" once after the loss of my Mum (which he was totally responsible for, but that's another story ...)

Anyway, I once had this MASSIVE fight with my father, resulting in him slicing my entire hand off with a fucking hot sword, you really couldn't imagine the pain I was in.

Anyway, after many hours of painful surgery, I was fitted with a prosthetic hand and fingers.

Which was nice.

I didn't want to rule the universe with him anyway.

(Pop!)
(fatboybubba, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:08, Reply)

Appendix
My brother in law David couldn't face going into school one morning, so he pretended he was in agonising pain. The doctor came over and pushed various parts of his stomach and David chose a part at random to scream in pain at. Hours later he was in hospital, having had a completely normal appendix removed so as to avoid a maths test.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:07, Reply)

core blimey
one time when i was making apple sauce with my grandma (as you do when youre 8), i was core-ing apples with one of those core-ers. you know, the circuar knife things.
silly me
i hold the apple at the bottom, and plunge the knife through the apple and through my hand
luckily the bones in the back of my hand stop it from going all the way through,
but my grandma had to deal with a screaming 8 year old who wouldnt stop running. she just wanted to take the knife out, but i didnt want her to touch me because it would hurt. like the bloody thing didnt hurt in the first place...dont question an 8-year-olds logic...

later on in life, around 11, i was in school in resistant materials (aka woodwork) and was using the sander. and sanded the end of my finger off. due to the absense of a teacher at the time, whod just gone into the stockroom, my friend decided that the best thing to do would to put some varnish on my bleeding finger to hold the blood in. no. the doctors had to sedate me to get the varnish off with something like turps or whatever.

another time, i broke my friends kneecap with a rounders/cricket ball. told her to walk it off.
she tried, and crumpled to the floor, screaming in agnoy.
(hextatic, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:07, Reply)

I lost a big chunk of my right hand once
But ive told that story so many times. Just got a scar on my lower thumb, looked great in stitches mind!
( Blobcat Less Jaffacakes this year, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:06, Reply)

Hmmm
I haven't got two nipples.
( Micro Prawnvica, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 13:03, Reply)

I have no Adenoids.
Whatever the hell they are.
(jimi.vicious regrets criticising the American electoral system!, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:59, Reply)

appendix, ear, elbow
The first part I lost was my appendix. Woke up one morning, and started vomiting. Still vomiting 3 hours later, dad decided I needed to have my appendix taken out. It was full of worms, apparently, which sounds quite apalling.

Fast forward many years to a drunken fight where my attacker bites off the top part of my left ear. Clean as a whistle, but now not terribly pretty. (one of the only other fights I've been in I lost the contents of my bowels - but I did win the fight against an enormous drugged up pimp).

More years pass, and I fall off my push-bike at 3mph hopping up a kerb. Result, two broken arms, and I now have a stainless steel radial head, because the other one was rubbish and had to go. Quite frankly, the new one is pretty shit, too. I creak like a church door.
(trevorthecat, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:52, Reply)

I saw a poster in a doctors' waiting room once...
...that was titled, "Do YOU {pointy hand clipart} know anyone without a spleen?"

WTF?

I have to admit that, before or since, no-one has ever introduced themselves detailing such a physiological deficit, neither has it ever come up in conversation. With anyone. Also, no-one has ever piped up on a night out or whatever saying "Oh fuck, I've lost me spleen - If I had a quid for every time etc etc" Just hasn't happened - don't ask me why.


But what about everybody else? Do YOU {pointy hand clipart} know anyone without a spleen? And if so, what the hell did they do with it?
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:48, Reply)

Not really a missing body part, but ...
When I was about 6, my dad's long-lost father came over from Australia to visit for a few weeks. Among the dazzling array of presents he brought his newly-discovered grandson was a boomerang.

Try as I might, I could never make the damn thing come back, so a week or so after my grandad went back home to Oz, my dad took me down to the park to show me how to throw it.

"Now, what you do is, you hold it like this, then throw it like this", he said, and threw it. "Now come and stand next to me in case it comes back and hits you". Duly obliging, I come and stand next to him. Boomerang comes whizzing back and smacks me straight in the stomach. Cue crying 6 year old, doubled over in pain.

I've never thrown the bloody thing since.
(painreliever Lurker extraordinaire, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:46, Reply)

Love-making finger
Not me, but 'tis an interesting story.

Worked on a banana farm during a trip to Oz last year. Being a woman, I was on the conveyor belt sorting stuff.

On my first day, a french guy ran in from working outside on the fields, screaming the place down. He'd just had most of his finger cut off by a machete. Not far behind was a co- worker carrying the remains of his finger, which had just been left lying around in a pile of bananas.

It took over half an hour for the ambulance to come to his aid - after 20 mins of copious blood loss and hysterical screaming, I think he was near to passing out.

Apparently, upon arrival, since the cut was right through the knuckle, the ambulance staff wanted to cut off what little remained. 'Sacre Bleu !' I like to imagine the frenchie would have said. He worked in IT so I'm sure a lack of fingers wouldn't be ideal. Plus - as I was reliably informed by male farm workers -it was the'love making finger'and the loss of this would have been a terrible fate for any man, let alone a french one. So after a bit of screaming, he got taken 2 hours away to a decent hospital where they could be bothered to do their job properly.

In addition I nearly bit my tongue off when I was about 7. Instead of stitching it up I got sent home, and I had to drink soup through a straw for about 2 weeks.
(heartspark, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:44, Reply)

Shattered My Ankle
Well one fine sunny day i think it was about the 5th of may (last month) me and about 17 mates decided to go on the field, and practice jumping over the most amount of people, this 6ft 6" guy starts taking a run up to jump (i'm the 16th person) I Look to my left and see him flying over everyone before me, suddenly i think...shit he's going to land on me. At this point i look up and see both his feet land on my ankle, we all start laughing and I got up and walked a bit, the next minute this emo mate of mine decided to push me over for a laugh i get up again and realise to my horror my foots not where it should be. Waited about 7 hours in A&E and found out i had shattered my ankle in everyplace you can, had to have surgery with plates and screws and still cant walk now :(.

bohnsack.com/data/photos/new/000000004616__384x512.jpg"
What my ankle sorta looks like ^
(Muncee, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:44, Reply)

Foreskin Japery
7 years old and teasing the neighbours dog through the flimsy excuse for a wooden fence between our adjacent back gardens...

Cue large dog, broken fence, teeth gnashing, foreskin tearing, 7 year old crying, blood seeping, mum screaming, doctors laughing.

And that ladies and genitalmen is the story of how I ended up undergoing a circumcision.

No apologies for girth or length as I have neither.
(small-non-bearded-gentleman-of-indistinguishable-origin, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:27, Reply)

time for a new car then...
... I have, well had as he's dead now, a weird uncle/relative person (who appeared at weddings and never again). Anyway, as a kid I often remarked to parents about how crap his beige metro was, being rusty and well... a metro!

One day family news comes round that he's got cancer and is having his leg removed. My comment, Will he finally get rid of that crap car then? Suppose he must have bought an automatic :)

Sympathetic type me.
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:20, Reply)

Had my Appendix removed years ago
which isn't particularly interesting, the aftermath is mildly good though.

The Doctor who carried out the operation went off work directly after it with seriously nasty flu, which didn't really bother me until three weeks later when I had my stiches out and my, by now, very infected stomach burst open again to thrill my family and friends with vast quantities of the most evil smelling snot like pus ever.

It carried on like that for a good three weeks, in which, I spent most of my time as a social pariah due to the stench.

The resulting scar makes it look like the op was done by a cross eyed three year old but I had lots of fun making girls cry with the goo/smell of it all.
(El Cabron, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:12, Reply)

The ultimate culinary faux pas
Normally I'm not a bad cook. One day I was cooking grilled trout with fennel couscous for a friend. Our story begins with me chopping lemons for the couscous. Somehow, the hand holding the lemon slipped and I cut my finger instead. There was quite a lot of blood but it didn’t hurt too much, so I thought it would be a really bright idea to just bandage it up until the bleeding stopped, and clean and dress it properly after lunch. I should have realised due to past experience [being dragged kicking and screaming to casualty with a dislocated kneecap that I insisted was “just a bruise”] that when faced with serious injury I tend to have;

a) Impaired judgement; and
b) A stupidly high pain threshold.

Alas, this did not occur to me.

So, we had lunch, which was quite yummy. My finger throbbed slightly, but I ignored it. Then we had some tea. By this time, it was about an hour since I had cut my finger. After hunting around for another several minutes for steri strips, I removed the now blood-soaked plaster to inspect the damage.

I was missing the end of my finger. Oh yes, a substantial chunk of my fingertip had been cut clean off.

It was then that I had a horrific vision of the events of an hour previously. After I had finished squeezing the lemons, I had actually scraped the dregs of lemon juice left on the chopping board into the salad. I had actually served my guest *human flesh*.

Luckily this turned out not to be the case – the missing fingertip turned up in the leftovers, but having been marinated in lemon and olive oil for the last 90 minutes, the chances of having it stitched back on were pretty slim to say the least.

It healed no problem though, and I even played a cello recital only a month afterwards.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:06, Reply)

My soul...
... swapped it with some fella called Beezlebub or something for a BMX when I was a kid. Not missed it.
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 12:05, Reply)

Me nephew's got in "innie"
Not as in belly-button, but as in his cock. He had a rare condition that when he was born, his penis had developed inside-out and was growning INSIDE HIM instead. Obviously, if left unchecked and he got a hard-on he'd end up fucking his organs (literally), so docs had to operate on him at the age of 2.

So he was administered in hospital, and had to have the only thing which works for this; a penis extension operation, which was a complete success.

The kid's now aged 3, hung like a donkey and starring in porn.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 2 Jun 2006, 11:59, Reply)