nearly Cut off my thumb with a bread knife
When i was about 18 I was cutting a slice of home made bread, (lovely), I wasn't paying much attention and proceeded to cut through my thumb and the attached nail.

When the knife sliced through the thumb and along the bone I passed out, to be found by my mother lying on the floor blood gushing out my thumb with the knife still in the loaf.

fuck it was sore. still, I have a nice scar which goes more than half way through my thumb.
(hudster, Tue 6 Jun 2006, 11:04, Reply)

My frontal lobe
No not that one you filthy minded cretins, the rather important part of your brain.

Back when I still lived with my mum, I was sitting watching TV whilst furiously snaffling down my dinner, I had a bit of a cold at the time and I let rip with an almighty sneeze that loosened my eyeballs in their sockets.

As you do, I inspected the fruit of my nose that had come to rest in my snotrag, to discover an inch long quivering, lumpy red mass.
Somewhat disconcerted, I poked at it a bit and concluded that I had just SNEEZED MY OWN BRAIN OUT.

Cue me running, eyes goggled in terror, to my mum convinced I'd snotted out a chunk of my brain, never once stopping to think that the product of my nosesplosion might have been one of the chunks of beetroot I had been greedily stuffing inside me.

I was 18 at the time.
(Bellamy's Enemy, Tue 6 Jun 2006, 10:49, Reply)

oh yes
When I was two, I coloured in my toe nail with a pencil. I went weird and I had to have it removed.

A couple of days later social services came round, and asked my mother if she'd like to explain what happened. She told her she got bored of looking at my toe so she stamped on it. The social worker went bright red and didn't come back; my toe nail did.

Edit: I meant "it went weird", of course. I did not go weird.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Tue 6 Jun 2006, 9:43, Reply)

Extra shoulder anyone?
My sister broke her collar bone in the act of being born (I always said my Mum was a tight cnut!) so her body grew a whole new extra shoulder!

They removed it when she was 5 and used her as a visual aid in a lecture for medical students so she is officially of medical interest!

Nice big scar though : )
(Smifta, Tue 6 Jun 2006, 9:27, Reply)

3 wisdom teeth that were essentially stolen...
...by a dodgy dentist - already posted this one at www.b3ta.com/questions/urbanlegends/post46724/

I swear that if I ever meet the cunt again I'll cut his hands off and shove them up his arse, though probably not in time for him to post his 'Vengeful former patient amputated my maulers and then raped me with them' story to this QOTW :)
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Tue 6 Jun 2006, 8:42, Reply)

I have had my appendix out, after
a week of agony in which my mum thought I was faking it.

I was off school all week, feeling ill and in absolute agony when I moved my stomach (breathing hurt), and when I was finally taken to the doctors he was surprised I wasn't dead yet, a big operation and patch up later I was in hospital for the best part of a week to recover enough to eat.

thanks mum

EDIT: I have also had scar tissue cauterised, on my arm (not too bad) and up my nose, which really hurt, the worst part was bits of my nose that continued to fall out for a few days later
( Neon Blue Ah ha ha haa! I feel positively capital!, Tue 6 Jun 2006, 6:56, Reply)

An eye-watererer
A friend managed to slip with his v-shaped lino cutter (as in arty printing, not floors) and shoot it right up his nostril as far as it would go, missing both sides on the way up. Amazing. Admittedly a big chunk of inside nose dropped out during the bleeding-like-a-stuck-pig fest but how's that for a perfect shot?
(sld440, Tue 6 Jun 2006, 4:30, Reply)

Bits & Pieces (now gone)
Being a priest I have to admit that losing bits of my body is all part of God's great plan but to make a list....

1) Edge of right hand thumb when I was a kid breaking an enormous catering-size Branston Pickle jar by gently hitting it with a claw hammer.
2) End of left hand middle finger by putting it in a chemist's door-hinge to 'find out what the grease felt like'. Now I have to keep that nail really short to stop it growing into the finger. Looks gross but I have fond memories.
3) Part of left eylid when I attempted to de-attach a springclip by pulling it towards me (nice black scar almost inside my eyeball which is still commented upon today by slightly wary friends).
4) Half of right eyebrow when I tried to turn off a 'living fire' (ie, powered by gas not coal) and fell into it after consuming too much communion vino.
5) Tonsils and adenoids. Could only eat crushed ice for two days afterwards and scared people in the hospital by just looking at them when they spoke to me then running to the toilets to spit because I couldn't swallow. No funny comments please.
6) Skin on the inside of my nose. I had severe nose bleeds as a kid and they chemically cauterised my nose. They said it wouldn't hurt - it feckin' did!
7) Right nipple for a while. While fitting a door I dropped a screw that I wanted to use on the hinge, looked down to find it and the door fell towards me scraping right down my chest taking off a nipple. Amazingly it grew back! The nipple, not the door.
8) Liver function - tbc, see 4).
9) Soul. Nearly. I tried to sell it on eBay. It never reached the reserve price of £1. I'm slightly perturbed by this. After all the crap that I've bought on there I thought a priest's soul might be worth something...maybe satan doesn't have an account
10) Part of shoulder skin. A girl (let's just say her name begins with 'L' (and ends with 'isa Gerald')) when I was aged about nine scratched it off. Massive scar ever since.

Length....just read the bible!
( Fr_Jerry_McGwier looked over both shoulders at, Tue 6 Jun 2006, 2:01, Reply)

part of my skull
I was born with craniosystosis (all the plates in the skull are fused together, preventing the skull from expanding with the brain), which would have hypothetically left me with a skull shaped like the head of an Alien from the film of the same name.

Fortunately it was diagnosed early, and they literally cracked my skull at the age of 2. Unfortunately it didnt work, so they did it all over again, a year later, but due to the irregular healing of my skull from the 1st attempt they had to take some chunks out, leaving me with a skull not unlike the surface of the moon, as well as a huge S-shaped scar that spans the top of my head. I remember the doctor telling me it stands for super, which helped me take the mind-shattering headache so much better.

As a result, I possibly have the most felt up head in England.

lickmylovelength
(Nestro, Tue 6 Jun 2006, 1:18, Reply)

Missing boob
I used to work with someone who only had one boob (breast cancer had resulted in the loss of the other one). Being quite a well-endowed woman, she wore a large fake one to balance herself out.

One morning, she came dashing into my office, looking awfully lopsided, and shouting 'I've forgotten my boob!' It was too far to go home to fetch it, so she wrapped some bubble wrap in a duster and stuffed that in instead. It crackled when she moved.

Epilogue: she since had reconstructive surgery, meaning I could employ that rarely-used phrase 'Your new boob looks great!'
(Pachey, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 23:59, Reply)

Lungs (bits of them anyway)
I used to have a condition, not eaxactly a medical condition itself, but a tendency to develop them--I repeatedly developed Pneumothroax, which is when your lung gets a small hole in it and starts leaking air into your chest cavity, inflating it like a balloon and gradually collapsing your lungs. For a long time we thought it was just bad asthma interspersed with cases of pneumonia (a minor pneumothorax can fix itself over time, feels a lot like pneumonia, and is hard to see on X-rays), but once the doctors cottoned on to what was really happening I got two month-long stays in the hospital while they cut off the top portion of each of my lungs and stapled them shut--the repeated blowouts had weakened the region beyond repair. They also deliberately scarred the surrounded tissue to make my lungs "adhere to the lining of the chest cavity" and resist collapse.

To this day my lung capacity is noticeably smaller than it was before. For a while I couldn't sneeze because I couldn't inhale far enough on the "ah-ah-ah" part to trigger the "choo!" reflex.
(+3 Baroque Vambrace of Icthyology, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 22:40, Reply)

Friend-of-a-friend missing story
emadex's degloving story reminded me of this:The only thing my friend Margaret lost in the operating room was her lunch. Some poor woman's hair had been caught in a machine and she had a degloving injury of the scalp. The scrub nurse handed Margaret a paper bag. Puzzled, she was and wondered what the hell was in there. She pulled out-voila!- the woman's 2 foot long chunk of hair. It was her entire scalp including an ear and both eyebrows. Marg puked and then passed out in it.
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 18:10, Reply)

not me
..but a friends brother.
home made bomb.
explosion.
blew off middle finger and the one next to it...(not index the other one)
now looks like he's making the rock sign all the time ^.^
(bryony*niamh kneecaps exist to be hit with clawhammers., Mon 5 Jun 2006, 17:46, Reply)

Woo Woo Woo
I used to work in a warehouse. We had a kid join us straight from school - nice enough kid, but not the sharpest tool in the box.

We'd had a siren fitted to our phone so that we could hear it above the noise from the factory. And it was loud. Very loud.

Working on the computer one day, my boss comes over and says "Watch Darren - this is really funny". The phone rang, and Darren stood there, glaring at it, going more and more purple in the face.

"It's driving him nuts," says my boss.

Sure enough, the phone goes again. Darren slammed down the box he was holding, and stomped over to the siren.

And stuck his finger in it.

A siren consists of two metal discs with holes in, rotating at different speeds.

Unfortunately for Darren, the hospital wasn't able to re-attach the end of his finger.
(Steve The Monkey, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 16:51, Reply)

There is one thing I should be missing
but still am not. My right foot's little toe is seriously deformed (see here) and should've been surgically corrected when I was a kid. I'm now 20, and it still hasn't been done. Not that it bothers me, most of the time I forget it's there. Makes a nice conversation topic, too.
(Psychosomatic Tumor Laugh your life cause there ain't much to cry for, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 16:49, Reply)

Lies, Damn Lies and Circumcisions
I had my foreskin whipped off when I was four and my mother told me they had to put a special ring round my cock because it had been hurting.

I asked her about it several years later and she confessed that she lied about it and so now, whenever possible, I do little things to make her cry.

I'm a real hero.
(misteroz, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 16:32, Reply)

.
Pub.Drink. Pliers. Arm pit hair. MY arm pit hair. V painful,V funny.
(Formaly Over say's hello, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 16:13, Reply)

Cosmetic surgery
For many years I had been troubled by a growth. It wasn't troublesome or difficult to deal with in the early years, but as time went on it became more and more visible. It caused horrendous headaches and the concern that it raised meant that stress levels were astronomical. Life was becoming quite unbearable..

After dealing with it for 19 years... Yes, dear readers... 19 years... I had it removed... I divorced the cow last year!

(I am a long time lurker and felt this was just too good to share)
(bof, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 15:08, Reply)

Lost my norks...
...after breastfeeding 2 kids. DD to a B. Hungry little parasites.

Also grew two shoe sizes, one for each kid. Started at a size 7, now a size 9.

No boobs and clown feet. Getting old sucks.
(Peelmytangerines, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 14:57, Reply)

missing bits
I was circumcised last year at the age of 40 years. Note to anyone still "knobbus intacta" and thinking of being de-balaclava'd: it really fucking hurts and is best done when you are an infant. My poor old chap look like a scene from some b-movie gore-fest. Worse still was copping a stiffy whist the stiches were still in. VERY FUCKING PAINFUL.

also no wanking for 6 weeks.
(urgle-splurgle molesting small goats since, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 14:47, Reply)

oh yeah...
and my step-dad has no finger prints on his right hand from grabbing one of those electric bar fire things when he was a toddler... fun.
(blackfacedfightinggibbon, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 14:28, Reply)

as with the person below...
lack of foreskin... lost it when i was 4.

I like to tell people it was removed because my head was too big, as it were...

no apologies for the lack of photographic evidence of length and girth...
(blackfacedfightinggibbon, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 14:22, Reply)

Foreskin
I'm circumcised. I just remember riding this cool little bike around in the hospital at the age of about 4. I thought I was just going to go to sleep whilst they put some cream on my nob. I was only there because it hurt when I pissed, turned out to be tight foreskin.

The moment I woke up I remember looking down and shouting "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DINKLE!?".

My nob hurt for days on end, and now it's just your regular ruby tipped gleb-end. I prefer being circumcised actually, I think foreskin looks odd.
( Flowers the little boy that santa claus forgot, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 14:10, Reply)

nails and pliers
I've had both of my big toe nails removed with pliers-- twice. I played a lot of football as a kid and my boots were too tight, so when I walloped the ball, my toe nails kept snapping off half way down.

That wasn't so bad but of course, the Doctor had to remove the remaining bit of nail. He injected my toe on both sides and it ballooned to the size of a tennis ball in seconds, like I was some kind of frickin' cartoon.

He then got out an instrument that was as technically impressive as a dental instrument from the 1850s to pull the bugger out. I was quite happy that my newly emboldened tennis ball would be able to take it, but no... white hot pain.

It was only on the third of these grizzly operations that I worked out what was going on. I bought some new boots... and clipped my toe nails a bit more often.
(sadler, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 13:47, Reply)

wham bar
I've sacrificed a few baby teeth to the God of Wham Bars.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 13:42, Reply)

Not so very jolly hockey sticks
as I am reminded daily as I brush most of my teeth. This is the result of charging directly towards an opposing player about to shoot from a short corner. Silly bastard panicked and smacked the ball straight into my face. Ouch, bleed, instant swollen face and false tooth for life.
Oh, I've just remembered the guy who used to work in Paramount Bookshop in Manchester who had two prosthetic Action Man style hands- I always wondered how that happened; he was a whiz at the till though...
( uncle bastard is twanging a dan moi, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 13:23, Reply)

Been done?
I lost virtually all my facial hair in a bizarre accident this morning with some soap and a so-called 'safety razor'.

You'd think I'd have learned by now, same thing happens every damn morning when I'm getting ready for work...
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 13:14, Reply)

Congratulations....!
Unlike some of you unlucky souls, I’ve managed to avoid getting myself into many nasty scrapes and losing parts of my anatomy. That said, I’m sure the gods are now working on a way for me to do so now that I’ve written that down. However, I have ‘gained’ an extra part of my body which has provided a fascinating diversion for those who have seen it.

At the age of fifteen, I was nicely filling out into a young man. However, on watching Good Morning Britain before school, I was introduced to the new terror that was gripping the nation: Testicular Cancer! Terrified of my bollocks swelling up to mutant proportions and taking over the rest of my body, I hastily checked to see whether all was still ok down there. A quick inventory revealed: 1 schlong, one hairy beanbag and yes, 1 ball, 2 balls, 3 balls…!? WTF!!? I recounted. You’d be amazed how many times you can count to three and think you’re counting two twice.

My breakfast made a guest appearance again and before I knew it, I was being rushed into my GP for examination. A second opinion was called for and I was booked into hospital. The four days waiting was excruciating. I was expecting my mutant extra bollock to start taking over my body any minute. Or go green. Or cause me endless pain. Every day I expected it to be my last.

Therefore, you can imagine how disappointed I was when the doctor gave it a brief examination before declaring that it was nothing but a fluid filled cyst and completely benign.

“Congratulations,” he declared, “you have a spare testicle!” Strangely, he then shook my hand and sent me on my way.

So there you have it. I gained an extra bollock all thanks to Anne Diamond. But I got off lucky. Gents, next time you’re down there, have a check, you too may get the chance to be called ‘Whojanickabollockoff’ for the rest of your days. Apologies for the lack of humour, I’ll go hack my foot off so I’ve got something funny to write about next week. :)

P.S. It does have a name. I call it E.T. the extra testicle.
(Mr Evian, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 13:07, Reply)

They were legless!
A girl i knew at uni, woke up after a one night stand to find her conquest's leg resting against the sink. She'd shagged him but was so drunk that she'd not realised at the time.

It was so entertaining to see her try and convince everyone that it wasn't a problem when you could see the hypocarcy in her eyes...
(holymole, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 12:51, Reply)

Thesadisticthespian-
This is true. My mates dad lost both knee caps in a car crash and has to be very careful as now all the joints are exposed. He can't kick himself in the face though, which is mildly dissapointing.
( Madam Marlboro wonders if you've found her yet, Mon 5 Jun 2006, 12:35, Reply)