I remember a friend telling me she loved her scars because it made her feel tough. My most recent scar makes me feel anything but. The morning I burned my forearm on my iron I was reminded of how clumsy I truly am. Actually, I think most of my scars showcase my gawkiness.
There are the knee and opposite elbow scars from my rollerblading fiasco. A little bit of advice for fellow bladers is to roll right over a snake on a path. Trying to avoid it only ends in a tangle of arms, legs, blades and gravel. After a stranger looks you in the eye to ensure you don't have a concussion, you get the pleasure of rollerblading to the car with blood dripping wounds. Living through the cleaning and healing process made me feel tough but the fall reminded me of my awkwardness.
While working at a flower shop I cut my knuckle with scissors. I received only three stitches but the bigger scar was the humiliation of freaking out in front of the customers as my blood dripped on to their pussy willows. I'm still confused as to how my knuckle got in the way.
The oldest scar that I can remember is the one I obtained at a girl's camp over 14 years ago. It was the worst camp ever as it rained non-stop. I think I kept my rain gear on from sunrise to sunset. The tents kept getting flooded and the weather didn't allow for much except whittling. The camp nurse felt very uncomfortable that we all had pocket knives. My 14 year old mind thought she was crazy as what could possibly happen with a measly Swiss army knife and wood? I found the answer during our first aid training. We were asked to put our knives away and I happened to put mine away on my thumb. I looked down at the deep gash and knew it wasn't something I could solve on my own. As the shock set in, my voice rose in panic. When the nurse figured out what was going on, she decided my real life wound would make a great demonstration. She set me in the middle of the circle and began to explain that deep cuts need pressure and elevation. After yelling at her to get me out of there, I was taken to a van, given butterfly stitches and a blanket to help with my shock. Several days later a chunk of skin fell off with a permanent reminder of my idiocy.
I have come to understand that many of people have scars due to unfortunate incidents, surgeries or sheer toughness. If only I could be so lucky... or careful.
Christmas Festivities
8 years ago
7 comments:
Aislinn, I burned myself on an iron this weekend, too! Except I burned my knee(I was crouching over my mini ironing board...)
My most obvious scar is from the chicken pox, right in the middle of my forehead (my mom told me not to scratch!). It's hard to think of a heroic story for a scar like that, but maybe a laser beam would be a good jumping-off point...
It's not for lack of trying, but I have only one small scar on my finger with no idea where it came from. I accidentally "drove" a pinto backwards over a 15-20 foot cliff...when I was 5. What do I have to show for it? Nothing. Hit by a car whilst riding my bike and flying over the handle bars? Zilch. Numerous sports and boating fiascos? Nada.
I love stories about scars, so thanks for that. I think that everything in life can be summed up as something that makes you feel cool, or really dumb.
The first time I rode a dual suspended bike I tried to launch over a curb, the sidewalk and a rock on the grass next to the sidewalk and back onto the pavement again. I made it, only sideways with my some of my face, half of a front tooth and a chunk of my hand in it. Yes, I felt dumb. But it's made for a good story.
By the way, Canada totally rules. Except for the border guards...
How many people have you seen with scars over, in or around their eyebrows? It seems that tons of people have nearly gotten an eye poked out or such. I always see people with eyebrow scars.
Me, I have a cool scar on my knee from kneeling down on the sharp end of a pencil - how could that happen? Well I was in grade 3 or 4 and doing some writing at my neighbors house and went to kneel down, just as my friend was lifting up a pencil and whammo, right into my knee. I stood up to see a pencil sticking out of my leg!
Like Sal, I too have a couple "don't scratch your chicken pox" scars.
I have a sweet scar on my ankle from a pillow fight. We broke a light cover and it came crashing down on my head, broke, and a shard of the glass sliced it's way through the skin on my ankle and straight into my memories as one of the cooler scars I'll ever have.
Me and my buddies adopted bluth and ryan remains used to tell this story about a huge scar that a.b. has on his shin--it was this intensely long story that involved shooting guns and firing on friends (real friendly fire--nothing says you are my friend like putting a bullet into him). Anyway, there was this whole idea of a.b. jumping on the ground in a re-enactment, and r.r. and I pulling his leg---JUST LIKE WE WERE PULLING THEIRS (theirs of course being whoever we were telling that story to). It was kind of funny, but really he just fell on some scrap metal.
Scrap metal sounds cool, but it's not really. It's just metal.
in addition, I will be recharging my blog after this weekend. YEEE HAW.
OK... so how many can say they have a scar on their knee caused by their teeth that somehow made connection as she leaped from a huge bonfire (this is England for Guy Fawkes night - bonfire was not yet lit!) This unfortunate event eventually led to having to have root canals and caps on front teeth. What can I say... I was very flexible then. Another great scar is sort of H shaped on my right forearm from when I tried to exit an apartment foyer by the panel of glass beside the actual door. That led to about 100 stitches and is quite spectacular. There are also lesser knife cuts and chicken pox scars. Aisy and I must be kindred spirits.
Dad? Are you pretending to be mom here? Don't you have scars of your own to brag about?
Post a Comment