Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Every Scar Tells a Story

I was looking down at my keyboard as I was typing, yes I have to do that, and noticed the scar on my left finger. I can remember exactly how it happened even though I was only about eight years old at the time. My mom and step-dad were in Las Vegas, they went there a lot in the 70's, and my grandmother was watching us. For some reason I wanted to try and carve the bar of soap in the bathroom. I think I saw a commercial with kids doing it. They had a plastic tool to carve, we did not. After digging around in the bathroom for a good tool, I found some tiny, curved scissors my mom had. I had no Idea what they were used for, maybe some kind of manicure device, all I knew was they were sharp. Very sharp. They would get the job done, no problem. I had to put a good amount of effort into cutting the soap, so when i got to the end of the bar I had a lot of force on the blade. Needless to say I wasn't able to stop when I ran out of soap. I will say that those little scissors cut through skin a lot easier than soap. At first I froze, then I bent my finger and watched the blood gush out. Not good. I thought I could see my bone in there, but it was probably only a tendon. I was a little kid, what did I know? I didn't want to tell my grandmother, I don't know why, so I ran it under cold water for a while, tried to stay conscious, then put a bandage on to stop the flow of blood. I don't remember anything else, all I know is that I avoided stitches.

Let's see, I have a scar on my forehead. My mom told me the scar was from when I fell off the bed while jumping on it. I'm not sure if that was true or not, since I was three or four when it happened. She probably just told me that growing up so I wouldn't jump on the bed. Mom's are like that. My son has a scar on his chin from when he fell off the chair while standing on it. He probably won't believe us either.

I have a scar on my knee from when I was running in the movie theater parking lot going to see Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I felt light-headed and nauseous during the whole movie because of the fall. To this day, though, I'm not sure if it was the fall in the parking lot, or the movie itself that made me fell that way. It could go either way. I was pretty young.

The scar I'm most proud of is the one on my right thigh. My friend and I thought it would be fun to stick apples from his tree on some BBQ forks and see how far we could through them. We were right, it was fun, until I tried for a record. I swung my arm so hard I couldn't stop the fork at the bottom of the arc. SLUNK! Right in the fleshy part of the thigh. It didn't bleed much, but puncture wounds don't heal easily. It's not big, but I know where it is. Again, no parents advised. How dirty could a BBQ fork that sat outside everyday be?

I have plenty more scars, but I'll save those for later. This is long enough. I can hear the snores from here.

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