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This is a question Ouch!

A friend was once given a biopsy by a sleep-deprived junior doctor.
They needed a sample of his colon, so inserted the long bendy jaws-on-the-end thingy, located the suspect area and... he shot through the ceiling. Doctor had forgotten to administer any anaesthetic.

What was your ouchiest moment?

(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:29)
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emveee's diarrhoea story reminds me that I had something similar in the spring
which entailed the same 12-hour 'entertainment'.

However, to add a certain piquancy to the experience, that was the day when I was due to take a hot air balloon flight over my home town.

Could have been a day to remember!

In the event, the flight was cancelled due to high winds. So I didn't get to float serenely over the leafy 'burbs with my bum hanging over the side of the basket, confirming once and for all my neighbours' suspicions of how I REALLY feel about them.

I did text everyone I could think of though, 'I'm flying over your house/work RIGHT NOW lol!' which puzzled a lot of people, who rushed out but saw no balloon.

They got off lightly.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:14, Reply)
Hit a stationary car
Doing 25mph on my pushbike - long story but it was all her fault. Broke my big toe, nearly snapped my shin (it's still dented) as I somersaulted over the roof and landed on my neck/back. A lucky escape all in. The fat bitch in the car then sant down next to me and cried
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:11, Reply)
Very sharp and pointy
Some years ago, when I used to be fit, healthy and able to wrestle cattle easily, I set out for an afternoon of the very same with the added intention of parting the males from their nuts.

On arriving at the farm, I filled my bucket with water and antiseptic and fixed a large (No22 Swann Morton www.swann-morton.com/product/38.php) blade to a holder and dropped it into the bucket.

The farmer and I then made our way to the pen and race where the job was due to take place. The work went well. We would load the race with four or five steers and I would then jump over the side of the race and down between the front end of one steer and the back end of the other. This is a moderately dangerous position in which to find yourself, especially as you are about to handle the bollocks of the steer in front.

My adopted style was to hold the scalpel in my mouth with the blade pointing forwards, then firmly grasp the base of the scrotum and make a firm and positive vertical cut into the testicle to release it and then place the scalpel back in my mouth before grabbing firmly to draw it out and yank... hard... The testicle was the lobbed out into the yard to give the dogs a bit of a feed (they often get a bit overfed on those days).

I've not discussed the relative merits or otherwise of the use of local anaesthetic (If you use it you have to handle them twice and you never make a good enough job to stop it being noticed) or of cleaning the bollocks (only if they were truly filthy), but I wasn't known for post-castration infections and that says it all.

I would then repeat the process on the other testicle and when done move to the next beast in the queue.

There are many points in this process at which you could get injured and the odd kick was a bit of a hazard. However... On this day I could not have guessed what I was about to do.

I had finished the job in question and needed to clean up. The bucket was full of the water and antiseptic mix PLUS some shit and straw from the work done AND crucially, the scalpel I dropped in there when I had finished castrating.

I duly plunged my hand into the bucket and was drawing water out onto my boots when I got hold of something firmer in the bottom of the bucket. I thought it felt like a sharp surface but I had forgotten about the scalpel and I had cut the top of my index finger off.

That hurt, quite a lot

I dont do large stuff anymore and I touch very little without it being completely insensible if I can help it.

length - about minus 5mm
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:04, 5 replies)
Still recovering from it actually...
The other week I was preparing to light a cigar, as I usually do on an evening.

I struck the match, and the end broke off... The burny end. It managed to lodge itself between two of my toes. By this point the pink stuff (not sure what it's called) was still burning.

I quickly learned, that stuff burns incredibly hot and between the toes is a very sensitive place to burn.
What followed was frantic swearing coupled with a very unusual dance.

Was left with 2nd degree burns in the strangest place I've ever injured and very obvious limp.
The skin is starting to grow back now.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:04, 4 replies)
Cocking crossbow shocks cock with butt
My mates and I went out in the woods with a selection of weapons for some target practise, Alf was cocking his crossbow and was just about to get the string in the catch when his foot slipped out of the stirrup and the butt of the thing shot up and whacked him in his nuts at 250fps, causing him to leave the ground and assume the foetus position in mid-air and then come crashing down writhing in agony. It still pains me to think about it. He had to walk two miles back home waddling along like John Wayne. (He has since fathered children, so his mashed funk spactories survived).
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:01, 2 replies)
Might as well have hit me in the mouth with a hammer
I had the worst 26th birthday ever...

My house purchase had gone through that day and so I had just been given the keys to my first ever house with my girlfriend. Unfortunately I also had to go to the dentist the same day.

Off I go expecting nothing more than a quick in and out (fnarr), but once the dentist looked in my mouth she found a tooth that had to come straight out.

She comes back with a massive needle and a pair of pliers. STAB! needle in mouth to try and numb and then the pliers go in before I'm numb and she starts tugging at my tooth.

10 minutes of this and my lips have all been bruised and the sides of my mouth have split from her efforts.

Off she goes and grabs a bigger set and now kneels on my chest to get some leverage. I now have a demented dentist kneeling on my chest tugging at my mouth like a pyscho horse masturbator. I've got so much blood and water pouring out of my mouth it's running down my back and into my pants.

'Right, I've had enough of this' she declares (unlike me who must be loving every minute of it) and tells me to brace myself (cos I'm obviously relaxed) and squeezes the pliers.

Now one of the noises you never want to hear is an explosion inside your head, which is exactly what it sounds like when someone pops a tooth still in place.

When I manage to waddle out I'm now in a shell-shocked, pale white faced, blood splattered state.

As a passing shot I was also told no alcohol, hot food or exercise for the rest of the day. This got me out of having to move furniture, but made the meal and beers with my mates and birthday sexy times with the GF a no-go.

Worst birthday ever...
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:00, Reply)
I have lots
Broke my arm, the radius and ulna both snapped in the same place, leaving my arm a U shape. I knew it was gonna break so I relaxed. Doing that kept the bones from popping out but created a lot more pain as the muscles in my forearm were all torn. Setting the bones was easy for the doctor, but the muscles took forever to heal.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:53, 3 replies)
Amorous Badger once insinuated that i was less than gorgeous
man, that hurt
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:47, 2 replies)
Slightly off topic
but everyone knows scars are cool.

I did this in January


now I have this

Strangely, a broken collarbone hurts lots less than the surgery to fix it.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:40, 2 replies)
If you're locked out of your house in your knickers. . . .
. . .things can actually get worse. I was getting dressed one afternoon and thought I'd pop out to check the mail before I left for the day (the box was located outside the door of the enclosed porch; all I had to do was sneak a hand out the door and not a soul would notice I was clad only in underwear), and of course I managed to lock myself out of the house. Not a problem! thought I, since my housemate had locked us out not that long ago and there was already a board replacing the small pane of glass that used to be in the door. I'd just punch out the board and all would be well.

Didn't count on there being a chunk of glass still caught in the pane. That little encounter left me with two partially severed fingers, swiftly followed by a trip to the hospital, several stitches in each finger, a hand brace and some physical therapy. I still have trouble opening jars more than a decade on and when cold or damp weather is coming, my hand aches. To add insult to injury, the mail that almost cost me two fingers turned out to be bills!
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:37, Reply)
Not the most painful, but... (slight RP)
A few years ago I was a bright and keen music fankid, going to gigs weekly. These days I can normally only be arsed to crawl out of my pit if it's the Cribs playing, but I digress.
I was at a gig in Leeds, at the front, on the barrier. I'm pretty short, so it was at chest height.
Thanks to a long-running in-joke with the band in question, my bra was hanging from a lighting rig and my tits were resting on the barrier, protected only by a thin t-shirt.
A bloke crowdsurfed over me, got on stage, jumped about a bit and then jumped onto the barrier, in heavy boots, in front of me to jump back into the crowd.
He stepped onto my left nipple.
He wasn't a small man by any means.

The bra-throwing thing died that very evening.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:27, 2 replies)

A friend of mine when we had finished our AS levels...
After a moderately heavy night in Sloane Square was dared to jump from a street sign to a lamp post. Being a keen rock-climber and extreme sports enthusiast he happily obliged, mounting the sign and promptly launching himself to the lamp post. It had been raining.

He caught the lamp post with his hands and as he attempted to plant his feet onto it, they slipped either side. His nether-regions took a fairly hefty blow on the post and he collapsed on the floor, rather white and promptly had a feel down below. Pulls his hand from his trousers to be confronted with blood.

Oh dear.

We take him to hospital and call his parents. 2 hours later at 1.30am a rather disgruntled father arrives. 6 hours later my friend is attended to by doctors. (At this point i am lying clutching my stomach outside due to drinking roughly 7 cans of budget tesco red bull. )
He is promptly told he has ruptured his urethra and must be admitted. Catheter and codeine follow.

Now, the funny thing about rupturing your urethra is that if you get an erection, you bleed to death.
Never would one have thought that having beautiful nurses tending to your nether-regions could ever be a bad thing, but luckily he kept it under control.

The tube healed up eventually, but due to overdeveloped scar-tissue, he was unable to piss without enduring agony.
The NHS suggested two methods of surgery to correct this:

i)they slice it all the way down the middle and fix the problem before sewing up either side.
Ii)they slice it off completely at the point of problem, remove the tissue and reattach.

7 months later, (and sooo many man points), he has surgery to finally correct the issue with a private surgeon (funnily enough) who suggested keyhole surgery.

Length? Pretty impressive considering...
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:21, 1 reply)
The missus
had an ovarian cyst that ruptured. She was staying at her granny's home while I was away on basic training, and had been sitting on the sofa when it happened. She was left to lay there crying in pain all night as it was quicker/easier to wait until the nearby health center opened in the morning than to drive into town to the nearest hospital.

When she was brought in to the health center they had a look at her two week old ultrasound to see what had been bothering her and noticed the cyst, put two and two together, and had her rushed to the ER at the above mentioned hospital.

They made a small incision to see what the problem was, and when they saw the damage they did an emergency c-section to clean out the area. The pus* from the cyst had been sitting in her insides all night and had spread all the way up to her abdomen. On top of the excrutiating pain from the rupture and several incisions, small and large, the whole area was getting infected.

Through all that they managed to save the ovaries, but warned her that if she developed another cyst they would have to remove them. This was our possible now or never warning and shortly after she had recovered, she was pregnant.

Our daughter is nearly 6 months old now, and with every passing day we turn down the volume on the baby monitor.

Length - originally 52cm, and getting bigger every day

(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:17, 2 replies)
Worst. Injury. Ever.
So this one time I got so irritated by a lazy prick of a housemate not pulling his weight around the house that I punched a sofa... and broke a bone in my hand.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:16, 1 reply)
Thankfully I've never had anything *really* painful like an injury
but just a few weeks ago I came down with one of the most horrendous illnesses of my life. I'd been to work and that was fine. I went out and played softball after work, drank a couple of tinnies during the game, that was fine too. Walked back from the park to a friend's house and on the way I belched. It tasted like black olives, which was weird because it had been a couple of weeks since I'd last eaten olives of any colour.

I stayed at my friend's house for a bit, but by now I was starting to feel a teensy bit rough. Belched up some more olive taste and began to realise that something unholy was happening to me, so I made my excuses and left, walking the five minutes back to my house. About three minutes into the journey the belching got worse and my bowels started spasming so much I had to clench them and waddle home for fear of shitting myself. I'd just about made it home and safely onto the toilet when satan's brown liquid brother erupted from my poor tender bumhole. Immediately I had to jump up and reposition myself so that I could eject something similar from my mouth.

Shaken, I had a drink of water and retired to bed, but I hadn't been there five minutes when the whole business started up again - first the liquid shit, then the vomit. Had a sip of water (to prevent the horrible dehydration) and staggered back to bed. Rinse and repeat for the next twelve hours solid - I'd got in at 8:30pm and my tortured sphincter didn't stop crop-spraying until 8:30 the next morning, the sort of time I'd usually be getting into work. By this point my legs were so badly cramped and curled up it was like walking on claws, I was in absolute agony and starting to hallucinate. Terrified of dehydrating too badly I was still sipping water between heaves, but my body just didn't want to hang onto it; yet it was in such tiny quantities I was mostly just dry heaving at the end. And yet it still wouldn't stop.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:14, 4 replies)
Jamacan Balls
I was on My honeymoon in Jamaica, back in the days when Mrs Strokes hadn't surgically removed my wallet. She really wanted to try waterskiing. the training amounted to a one armed bloke in a power boat throwing you a rope, shouting "bend ze knees Maan" and taking off at an increddible pace. 45 mins of falling over. then I got the hang of it. I thought. Knees bent together, Elbows bent, absorb the bounces. I was up. for enough time to get up to about 90 miles an hour. at which point my left leg went left, my right leg went right and my nuts hit the water first. ouch. Possible slighty worse was having to see the huge jamacan nurse who advised my I had had a "Whack in de Bollocks" and I should wear "sportin briffs" "Uh?" "sportin briffs", "uh?" Briffs that gives you sport" "uh?" "Tight pants" explained the doctor.

PS Mrs Strokes didn't have a very good honeymoon either
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:14, Reply)
Once, and only once (for I did stab her in the head) my ex thought it might be sexy to playfully and gently bite one of my balls.

The ensuing scream shook the foundations of the house.

*edit* I have been hurt worse than this, but going from so much pleasure to so much pain will stay with me for life
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:10, Reply)
So yeah.
I went to the doctors as a child with a peanut stuck in my ear. He poured in some warm chocolate and it later came out a Treat.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 18:07, 1 reply)
Not a short, sharp shock, but fucking hell it hurts.

I managed to catch it on holiday, presumably off being in close contact with someone else who'd got it (it's relatively easy to contract off clothes, or brief contact like shaking hands - I wasn't shagging street beggars or anything. Honest.)

What it amounts to, is lots of horrible little mites burrowing into your skin, which you then have a violent reaction to. It's itchy, basically. Itchy like you can't imagine. Think about the worst itch you've ever had, and then imagine having it all over your body, non-stop, for several days.

It took seeing a couple of GPs when I got home before one of them twigged as to what it was and gave me the magic cream which gets rid of them. Before that point, the only solution was absolutely smothering myself in E45 cream and moving lots (I was going for about 5 jogs a day as the activity made the itching go away).

Makes me extremely glad of modern medicine. In the olden days you just went crusty, apparently (if you've got a strong stomach, Google Image it)
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:58, 4 replies)
I got surgery on the bone in my big toe a while back
Came home, limped around a bit and... promptly stubbed my toe.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:58, Reply)
My knob in my flies as a youngster. I literally had to pull as hard as i could and damage the little chap to get it out. I have never done it since.

Length- about a 1cm smaller after my bespoke mini op
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:56, 8 replies)
Some years ago, I was a fresh-faced 18year-old who didn't smoke, or do drugs and drank only in moderation.

Then 10% of my lung collapsed. I was sitting in a classroom, and had a stabbing pain in my chest. That was pretty painful.

This happened on a fairly regular basis for the next 2 years until I convinced a doctor that it needed sorting. So I had surgery, that involved stapling a part of my lung off, scraping part of the lung so it caused scar tissue, and stopping it collapsing again. That was painful.

Then my lung fully collapsed. 100% gone. I was rushed into more surgery. They pour a load of kaolin into my lung cavity to cause inflammation and more scar tissue to "stick" my lung to the chest wall. That was very painful.

Then my darling brother sent me a comedy tape to listen to in order to pass the time. That was extremely painful. I have never "cried" with laughter like that before.

Apologies for length, but the nurses LOVED me.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:48, Reply)
Oh man, I'm too late to post a story about guilty laughs, that HURTS man.

(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:48, 5 replies)
Not funny in itself. But it hit in the middle of my Computer Science 'O' Level, which was interesting timing...

And yes, I work in IT
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:43, Reply)
not even remotely first! yay!
and now here's the story.

when i was but a little smash, i was playing outside with my brother and his friends. they were rolling each other about the place in a very large concrete sewer pipe, which was due to replace the old pipes. these things weigh a couple of tons.
as i was talking to my brother, the pipe came towards us. i didn't realise it was so close, until the end of it rolled over my foot.
i didn't feel any pain at first, but about 5 seconds later, it struck with a vengeance. my foot balloned rapidly, hulk-style, ripping off my shoe as it did so. it swelled so much and so fast that the middle of my foot split open, pushing the foot innards outwards. of course, i screamed the fucking place down. my brother, who was meant to be looking after me, went the colour of boiled shit. putting his arm round me for support, he tried to help me walk home. as soon as i tried to put weight on my now mangled foot, i hit the deck, embedding gravel into my knee in the process. my brother and his mates had to carry me.
when my parents got home(it was dad's birthday, they'd gone for a meal), mum immediately phoned an ambulance and got me to hospital. x-rays showed that the foot was crushed and 3 toes were broken. i spent 3 days lying at a 45 degree angle, in order for the bones to fall back into place. it took 8 weeks before i could walk again.
trust me, it was one hell of an ouch.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:42, 4 replies)
I've been sitting here for an hour (and the rest) constantly refreshing to post this (had it copied ready to paste)

Edit: F*ck, that's wife's fault for getting home and deciding that talking about Godparents for an as-yet-unborn child was more important than bee three tee aye.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:40, 5 replies)

EDIT: Goddamnit...
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:39, Reply)

edit - damnit!!!
edit edit - was i first?
edit edit edit - I was first. Smug.
(, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 17:39, Reply)

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