Growing Up Hurt and Humiliated. Part 9
Holidays. They're fun times with friends and families. There's food, celebration, laughter...and in my case injury.
Take Easter Sunday of my senior year. Instead of eating a metric ton of Easter food, I got to go to the emergency room because I wrecked the shit out of my car. Snapped my collar bone in three places. They gave me a hefty dose on pain killers and gave me the orders to take it easy, and stay in bed, to try to let the bone heal. This also being the Easter sunday that started spring break. Of my senior year. yaaaaay.
So, needless to say, holidays and I have a bit of a history. It was Christmas Eve. I want to say that I was 11 or 12. I was giving the marching orders by my mother to take out a bag of trash. It was unusually warm that year, so I was wearing shorts. So, this entry gets credited to God tagteaming with my Mother. I took the trash bag outside, and started swinging it to get some motion to throw over the wall and into the bed of my dad's truck. I felt a tinge on the side of my leg, as on the last powerful swing got it into the truck. I didn't think anything of it, because it didn't hurt...thought maybe the trash bag breezed my leg. As I began to feel warm liquid filling my sock, and knowing full well that I hadn't pissed myself, I looked down to see that the garbage bag hadn't breezed my leg, it full on gashed the ever loving shit out of it. Turns out mom had dumped some broken glass in the bag, and had forgotten to give me that bit of important information.
Having been the first time I've ever seen what the inside of my body looks like, I freaked out just a little bit. I was sure that I would bleed to death, and not be able to open gifts Christmas morning.
We put some ripped fabric on to keep pressure, and then I over heard dad contemplating whether or not he could take me to his Veterinary friend to get me stitched up. I'm not joking and neither was he. For some reason, he decided to take me over to his team roping buddy's house to let him see what he thought of Vet vs. Dr, because in my dad's eyes cattleman's oppinion = doctor's.
He seemed to be disgruntled that Joe told him to take me to the doctor. So, I got the next best thing, MedPlus. AKA Doc-in-a-box. For those who don't know, MedPlus is to Hospital as McDonalds is to Five Star Restaurant.
The doc examined my leg, and asked if I wanted "MERRY XMAS" stitched in my leg. "ARE YOU SHITTING ME?...JUST STITCH." He jammed the syringe into my leg to numb the pain, but what I needed was something to numb the pain for the syringe, because that really really hurt. He stitched me up...I caught a glimpse, and almost passed out. We went home, and I laid on the couch. Then Justin whipped a G.I.Joe at me, and it hit me right in the eye.
More stories to come!
Take Easter Sunday of my senior year. Instead of eating a metric ton of Easter food, I got to go to the emergency room because I wrecked the shit out of my car. Snapped my collar bone in three places. They gave me a hefty dose on pain killers and gave me the orders to take it easy, and stay in bed, to try to let the bone heal. This also being the Easter sunday that started spring break. Of my senior year. yaaaaay.
So, needless to say, holidays and I have a bit of a history. It was Christmas Eve. I want to say that I was 11 or 12. I was giving the marching orders by my mother to take out a bag of trash. It was unusually warm that year, so I was wearing shorts. So, this entry gets credited to God tagteaming with my Mother. I took the trash bag outside, and started swinging it to get some motion to throw over the wall and into the bed of my dad's truck. I felt a tinge on the side of my leg, as on the last powerful swing got it into the truck. I didn't think anything of it, because it didn't hurt...thought maybe the trash bag breezed my leg. As I began to feel warm liquid filling my sock, and knowing full well that I hadn't pissed myself, I looked down to see that the garbage bag hadn't breezed my leg, it full on gashed the ever loving shit out of it. Turns out mom had dumped some broken glass in the bag, and had forgotten to give me that bit of important information.
Having been the first time I've ever seen what the inside of my body looks like, I freaked out just a little bit. I was sure that I would bleed to death, and not be able to open gifts Christmas morning.
We put some ripped fabric on to keep pressure, and then I over heard dad contemplating whether or not he could take me to his Veterinary friend to get me stitched up. I'm not joking and neither was he. For some reason, he decided to take me over to his team roping buddy's house to let him see what he thought of Vet vs. Dr, because in my dad's eyes cattleman's oppinion = doctor's.
He seemed to be disgruntled that Joe told him to take me to the doctor. So, I got the next best thing, MedPlus. AKA Doc-in-a-box. For those who don't know, MedPlus is to Hospital as McDonalds is to Five Star Restaurant.
The doc examined my leg, and asked if I wanted "MERRY XMAS" stitched in my leg. "ARE YOU SHITTING ME?...JUST STITCH." He jammed the syringe into my leg to numb the pain, but what I needed was something to numb the pain for the syringe, because that really really hurt. He stitched me up...I caught a glimpse, and almost passed out. We went home, and I laid on the couch. Then Justin whipped a G.I.Joe at me, and it hit me right in the eye.
More stories to come!
Ouch - you and holidays do have a sore history don't you?
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