I was running for my train. After entering in the station airlock, for a reason i still can’t explain, i turned right instead of continuing straight ahead and BAM, i hit a glass with my face. Now i have a little scar, fortunately hidden behind my eyebrow.
When I was ~10 I was running around the house with a white bedsheet over my head. I was pretending to be a ghost while I chased my older brother around the house. Unfortunately I slipped backwards on the sheet and hit the back of my head on my mom’s solid oak coffee table. Immediately blood started soaking the sheet red and I obviously screamed out in pain. My mom came running into the living room to find me screaming and the sheet just turning more and more red.
At this time we lived about an hour away from the nearest hospital and my mom knew if she tried to take me in for stitches that I would probably bite the doctor or something (I have a pathological fear of needles). So she opted to shave my head and tape it shut. Then she instructed my brother to keep me awake for the next few hours (she was worried about a concussion) and she let me watch whatever movie or play whatever video game I wanted for the rest of the day.
It healed fine and now I have a small scar on the back of my head that is only visible if I shave my hair super short.
like half my concussions have been the stupidest shit ever. once when i was a kid i randomly decided to jump down the last 5 or so stairs. but there was a door there so i fucken CONKED my head on the frame, spun backwards, and then SLAMMED my shit for a second time on the bottom step.
that was probably the worst one, i think it legitimately fucked up the way i form memories. i have a lot of face blindness issues now, but i always INSTANTLY recognize people from my childhood.
Was doing some woodworking with the big power tools my dad had set up in the basement. First time using the table saw, I start my cut and realize the blade wasn’t high enough and wasn’t cutting through the whole piece of wood. I knew that I couldn’t let go of the wood while the machine was running, or it would become a projectile.
So I turned it off and immediately let it go, turning it into a projectile because the blade was still spinning. Luckily it only caught the back of my finger, though it left a scar.
Okay so I was having a hard time pulling the plug out for our dryer. I Was only able to get it out partly. Part of the metal from the plug was exposed, so I wrapped my hand around those parts to get a better grip. Smh. You know what happened next.
Jumped off a moving train and immediately ate shit, dislocated my shoulder… The train did not seem like it was going very fast. We were still at the platform, just getting going.
There’s a gif out there of a guy doing the same thing, that someone edited so he explodes when he hits the ground… Just like that but no explosion… Except the explosion of pain of course
Putting on a sock, lost my grip and punched myself in the particulars.
I asked a man with boxing training to hit me in the face so I could try to be prepared in a fight. When I woke up he said he didn’t think I was going to not block or anything.
I did the one about jumping upwards under a shelf recently-ish, so instead I’ll share the time I tried to stand on an exercise ball to reach something. Of course, I didn’t make it, and did a faceplant into some hard cube bins.
Most recently? Cleaning snow. The driceway is short and at a slight slope, and is on the north side of the house. The sun warms just enough of it to melt snow, but the water seeps down to the shaded area created by the house and refreezes. I cleaned all the snow, noted the slippery patch, and did a good jub avoiding it. Wouldn’t you know it, just as I finished the work I forgot about the patch and stepped in it snd went down immediately. Hurt my wrist, pretty durecit was a hood sprain. Sill hurts today if I apply the right pressure, and it’s been a few weeks since i landed on it.
September of 2006 I was cleaning the house and had just finished mopping the upstairs bathroom and was taking the mop and broom back downstairs when my wet shoe slipped on the hardwood stairs (No carpet or treed). I fell down 8 steps landing on the landing. At first I thought I was fine, but when I stood up I instantly fell down. It was at this moment I noticed on the wall was a streak of blood about 3 feet long. Touching my temple revealed a good bit of chiseled spam. So it’s possible during the initial fall, I slammed my head into the wall and knocked myself out for a moment. Though I’ve never been able to figure out if that is in fact the way it happened. I have no memory of hitting my head though.
That wasn’t the part that really hurt me though. I realized I had no control over my right leg. It didn’t “hurt” really, but it was just hanging at an odd angle. Not know exactly how hurt I was, and not sure what else to do, I called 911 and an ambulance ride later had me in the ER. 6 hours of tests and waiting and it was revealed I had shredded my patellar Tendon.
The next morning I had a surgery that was supposed to last 3 hours, it ended up lasting 7 because the surgeon accidentally cut into an artery in my leg and I lost a great deal of blood before they could get the bleeding to stop. I ended up having to have 3 pints of blood to stabilize me before they could continue sewing my tendon back up. The way it was described to me was like trying to sew together to wet mop heads. I spent the next year of my life on my back before PT to learn to walk again. I gained 200 lbs in the year and it took me nearly 15 years to get the weight back off, I’m still struggling to get the rest of it gone.
To this day I have trouble walking, major back issues, and tons of nerve damage on my right side that I’ll have till the day I die.
That feeling of dread when the anecdote begins with a specific date…
I like how wet mops came up twice.
Y’know, I’m not a surgeon and probably missing something, but I feel like there must be a way to open a leg with very little risk of nicking the femoral artery.
Lifting weights on a machine instead of free weights. Trust yourself, not a machine.
Went for a motorcycle ride when it was 12 degrees fahrenheit. I was warm with some heated gear, but I was on my Street Triple with Pirelli Rosso III tires. I stopped at a store for a while and didn’t think about the tires being cold. Gave it a bit too much throttle when leaving and the rear end slid at about 15 MPH. My leg went down first and it snapped my left MCL. I could barely walk for a month as it healed and had to go through physical therapy. My leg is solid now, but there’s some nerve damage from the bike landing on my leg, which decides to make itself known occasionally.
Did you wear good gear and good boots, or was the motorcycle just too heavy?
I had good gear and good boots. The damage was caused by me instinctively putting my leg down while the bike was falling. That’s what snapped my knee. The nerve damage was because the pointy part of the tank (it extends outwards a bit at the top) landed directly on the side of my knee. I’m pretty sure having the riding pants with armor is what kept me from further damage as my kneecap was the first thing to land.
When I was a child, I used to gallop down the stairs like you’d see a lot of people doing in everyday life. I got to a point in my puberty that I had grown just enough to slam my head into the wooden stud at the bottom of my stairs going into the basement.
I’m pretty sure my IQ went down by about 25% that day.
So this is half on me, and half on my father. (I inherited my “stupid idea” gene.
When I was 16 my dad was building a greenhouse on our small acreage. Frame was up, everything was ready and it became time to lay down the heavy clear plastic sheeting that would form the surface.
As he was up in the top nailing down each corner, it was my job to hold each corner down as tight as I could from the ground by using a rope attached to the corner of the sheet. (I don’t know if i’m describing this properly).
Any way, my father’s fault in the story is this: The only “rope” we could find was baler twine. It’s thin, coarse, and can easily slice like a saw. We secured a long piece of it to the corner of the sheeting and my job was to basically “tug of war” the corner in order to keep it taut for my father to secure.
Anyone raised in the country already sees exactly where I’m going with this…
MY stupid part in this story is this…
In an attempt to get a better purchase on the baler twine, I wrapped it a few times around my hand, through my fingers, etc…
Did I mention it was a bit windy that day? So a guest of wind took the corner and ripped it out of my hands, with the twine literally zipping through my fingers, slicing them nearly to the bone because friction + baler twine = weirdly effective saw.
Four fingers on my right hand were left with ring scars from where the twine zipped through them and my right hand was out of action for about a week
I needed to fill the medicine boxes for me and my partner, and I had a few bottles of medicines I just got that I needed to put in, so I’m carrying them down the stairs, one of the bottles falls out of my hand, lands like a wheel on a stair, I step on it, and I fall down 3 stairs. My butt and elbow hurt and I was so mad. 😡
This was yesterday, btw.
