Almost a month ago, my six year old son’s fingertip was smashed in a door and cut off. He was taken to the hospital, where the tip was reattached and we were told there was a 50/50 chance of it taking. It didn’t.
Last week, after the doctor told us the tip would eventually fall off like a big scab, I explained to my son that his finger may look a little funny when all is said and done. He seemed a bit freaked out by the word “scar”…thanks a lot Lion King…so I had to think fast to reassure him.
I pulled up my left pant leg and pointed to a scar on my shin, where thanks to a menacing 7th grade bully, I had the most painful wound of my life.
I had just entered 8th period science class, and was approaching the teacher’s desk which was perched on a stage with metal trim all around the top edge. As I was passing said bully, he stuck his foot out and tripped me. At the place where two metal pieces joined together to form a perfect point, my skin was pierced. I fell, shin first, into the corner of the stage. The hole it left went nearly to my bone.
I then showed him the bottom of my foot. My family had been tearing down my Grandmother’s garage, when I stepped down onto a board that had a long nail sticking out of it. The nail went through the sole of my shoe, right into my heel. My cousin and I went to the emergency room together, because shortly after I pulled off my bloody sock, she swung an axe directly into her shin.
After that, I displayed the mark on my right forearm where I once slashed myself with a wallpaper scraper. It left quite a scar, because instead of going for stitches I wrapped up the wound with paper towels and duct tape.
I explained to my boy, that although these things hurt at one time, the scars they left behind don’t hurt me at all now. But, by the look on his face, I don’t know if I reassured him or frightened him even more.
Because I like to twinge in discomfort…tell me folks, what was your most painful injury?