Scars with history
You've all got scars: they're nature's little reminders not to be so damned stupid next time. My favourite is the 1/4" round hole in the back of my right hand, created when I was 7 by my best friend putting a manure-covered gardening fork "away".
Tell us the stories behind your scars. With photos if possible.
( , Fri 4 Feb 2005, 10:00)
You've all got scars: they're nature's little reminders not to be so damned stupid next time. My favourite is the 1/4" round hole in the back of my right hand, created when I was 7 by my best friend putting a manure-covered gardening fork "away".
Tell us the stories behind your scars. With photos if possible.
( , Fri 4 Feb 2005, 10:00)
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Possibly the most nerdy scar ever.
I was at school one morning in tutor group, and was hurriedly revising for a Latin vocabulary test that was looming on the horizon. My Latin vocab folder was one of those cheapo folders to hold punched sheets, with a little brass strip that you bend over at each end once you've put them through the holes.
In the process of my obviously diligent revision I managed to pull this bit of brass out of the plastic, whereupon I discovered it had additional wide, and fairly sharp, bits to keep it inside. I then discovered wrapping the brass strip around your finger and trying to pull it off from one end like a bit of string does not work, and the strip gashed my finger to the bone, resulting in an unexpected amount of blood, exposed fat cells and muscle tissue and 8 stitches in the end of my finger. I still have sensory loss now.
I also tried to flirt with the over-worked 20-something nurse (I was about 15) who then did her best to cause maximum pain when administering the local anasthetic. The reason for my wound clearly helped my attempts to be charming very little.
On a brighter note, I skipped the Latin test.
( , Fri 4 Feb 2005, 21:16, Reply)
I was at school one morning in tutor group, and was hurriedly revising for a Latin vocabulary test that was looming on the horizon. My Latin vocab folder was one of those cheapo folders to hold punched sheets, with a little brass strip that you bend over at each end once you've put them through the holes.
In the process of my obviously diligent revision I managed to pull this bit of brass out of the plastic, whereupon I discovered it had additional wide, and fairly sharp, bits to keep it inside. I then discovered wrapping the brass strip around your finger and trying to pull it off from one end like a bit of string does not work, and the strip gashed my finger to the bone, resulting in an unexpected amount of blood, exposed fat cells and muscle tissue and 8 stitches in the end of my finger. I still have sensory loss now.
I also tried to flirt with the over-worked 20-something nurse (I was about 15) who then did her best to cause maximum pain when administering the local anasthetic. The reason for my wound clearly helped my attempts to be charming very little.
On a brighter note, I skipped the Latin test.
( , Fri 4 Feb 2005, 21:16, Reply)
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