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Post by Devil Soundwave on Jun 7, 2008 16:11:14 GMT
So I was carrying a box of delicate stuff (plates and glasses). Tripped on the kerb. Managed to save the stuff in the box, by stopping my fall with my face instead of my hands!
Total comedy face-plant, but wasn't that funny - have chipped three teeth, hurt my neck and mashed my forehead and the side of my nose. I can deal with the pain and bruising, but teh chipped teeth is really bumming me out.
Anyone else ever fallen straight on their face?
What's been your worst injury?
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Post by Phill on Jun 7, 2008 16:30:20 GMT
I've had something pretty similar. I was toy-fighting with a friend and he "Bulldogged" me. For those who don't know what this is, its when someone puts one arm round your neck and lefts their legs up, which then pulls you down. You can see a slightly glamorised one in this video www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPdlhhn3JDkAnyway my friend did that to me, but I managed to lift him back up and be fully standing. He started to wriggle, and I lost my ballance and spun a little. I then fell and went face first into the edge of a kerb. The top of my nose hit first and my head slid down, which then ripped the skin at 2 other places. I didn't realise how bad it was at first, and after walking home in the hopes of just cleaning it off I realised how bad it was. I ended up in A&E for over 5 hours. I got about 16 stitches, and each ripped bit was about an inch wide, the initial impact was justa small cut and lots of bruising. I ended up with bandages over my nose, and head for about a week, but the funny part of it was that I had my first day at college the next day, and a friends's birthday party 4 days after that. I looked like a total freak, and still have the scars to show today. In your case your Dentist will love the cost of capping the teeth you've damaged.
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Post by Xbot on Jun 7, 2008 17:12:35 GMT
I was posting at this TF forum and I realized I had lost about 500 post and everyone made fun of me..it was the worst experience ever!
then I got over it
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Post by Devil Soundwave on Jun 7, 2008 17:40:18 GMT
In your case your Dentist will love the cost of capping the teeth you've damaged. Thank god for Bupa. There are benefits to being in management...
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Post by Sunstreaker on Jun 7, 2008 17:46:40 GMT
[glow=red,2,300] On another forum somewhere I posted my 'necrotised testicle' story...
gimme a minute and I'll find it... [/glow]
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Post by Sunstreaker on Jun 7, 2008 17:55:40 GMT
[glow=red,2,300] Originally posted March 5 2002... [/glow]
Alrighty! I’ve only been semi-lucid with my posts for the past few weeks due to the most frightening sickness it has ever been my misfortune to contract – and as I promised Electra, rather than tell her on the phone, I have posted the exact nature of my incapacitation ;
I URGE YOU NOW – IF YOU ARE OF A WEAK DISPOSITION DO NOT READ THIS POST!
It all began some few Sundays ago, whilst at my games club (which is still bereft of a name by the way) I found that I was starting to suffer from weakness of my limbs, uncontrollable sweating and an unbelievable temperature. After locking up the club (and confirming that Flibbertigibbet [Starscreams Ghost] was also suffering from the same symptoms) I retired to my bedroom to sweat and have feverish dreams about binary code.
After three days of this hellishness, I proceeded to go to the local G.P. – a loverly Asian chap by the name of Dr Chajed, who diagnosed me as having a severe throat infection, prescribed some anti-biotics, then sent me on my way.
The night immediately following my visit to the Doc’s I noticed a… chaffing… Seemingly in my sleep, whilst all hot and sweaty, I had chaffed the inside of my left thigh, and the flesh immediately above my left genital.
During the next few days my seemingly minor chaffing developed into a series of ulcerations around my upper leg, and one particularly nasty 2cm x 2cm gaping sore above my left Gonad, which began to seep a black phlegm like substance.
When I stopped panicking, I immediately called myself a cab and got myself down to casualty pronto.
Basildon A&E department is what I would quite happily describe as the waiting room to hell. Small screens suspended from the ceiling displayed daytime television, with the sound muted, but with subtitles flashing, whilst ugly people in paint smattered denim lounged around looking moody and violent. The main source of entertainment for the five hours I spent sat in this cesspit, was an Unnecessarily Fat Woman with no shoes on. This creature took it upon herself to berate the hard working staff at the Hospital and to disregard all Hospital procedures. It’s not a hard concept. You write your name on a piece of paper. When a doctor becomes free, he goes to the next person on the list. When he or she finishes, they tick the name, and then move onto the next person. Dead simple. Or so you would think. This horrendous woman objects to being on a five hour waiting list by continually writing her name on the list- over and over and over again. The Unnecessarily Fat Woman points out to everybody that she is wearing no shoes, and that her feet hurt. After about an hour, Unnecessarily fat woman steals a wheelchair from the waiting room, and like a child on a wheely chair, starts pulling herself around the waiting room, banging herself into other injured patients and medical personal who happened to get in her way. She then proclaims in an unbelievably loud voice, that she must have child welfare’s telephone number so that she can try to get her children back. Fortunately at this point I was summoned by the Doctors into the seclusion of a rancid, off beige packed series of cubicles, where I proceeded to sit for another hour. The cubicle next to mine had an old lady and her friend who had apparently had a nasty fall, the one opposite her had a comatose old woman, and the one opposite me had a semi-naked man in a flat cap , who exemplified all of the traits of the old and cantankerous. Eventually a young nurse arrived to look at my testicles, who took one swift gander, then proceeded to call her two friends ‘cor’ blimey ain’t never seen nothing like that!’. Finally a young trainee Doctor came, who took me into an eye examination room to look at my bits – she seemed the least perturbed of the seeming gangs of people who had already checked my bits, but still didn’t really know what to do. After another 10 min’s she finally conceded that she didn’t have a clue, and went to call the most senior Doctor she could muster. I knew I was in safe hands when the mummified Asian Doctor in copious white labcoat was wheeled in. After glancing at my ulceration from across the room, he cheerfully declared that my ulcer was Necrotized (this concerned me quite a lot) and that I had apparently infected my ulcerations with the throat infection – Ouch.
I was then palmed off onto some nurses to get my wounds tended and cleansed. Some bright spark thought It would be clever to take a swab of my ulcer. If any of you out there have had a cottony swab jabbed and twisted into an ulcer above your left testicle, then I won’t have to describe the unbelievable pain that such an action brings.
After the swabbing, yet another nurse arrived with what appeared to be an Iodine gel cleanser – with the exact consistency colour and smell of Barbecue sauce. With the infamous words; “This may hurt a little” the nurse then smeared searing pain all over my bits. I was fine for the first few seconds, then keeled over in a palid sweaty heap. I was awoken on a gurney several minutes later by a loud clattering sound and the voice of the Unnecessarily Fat Woman, as she attempted to break into the Rancid, off beige cubicle area ; “ I want drugs! I want Painkillers for my feet!”
I wanted a painkiller for her.
As I glanced up, I found that I was surrounded by old people with biscuits, tea and sandwiches… ‘Does he want food love?’ ‘Nah he’s not an overnighter love – he doesn’t get any food love’
As I prized myself off of the gurney, I was confronted by an intern with three bottles of pills and a threatening look on his face – ‘ The Nurse has explained how you take these alright! Now you have to pay for them – put the money in the machine in the wall – that’ll be eighteen pounds’ I paid my money, Got a cab home then went to bed.
The worst of the story ends some three days later. After waking up early, and trying to get to the toilet, I found blood pouring from my testicular ulcer – and whether I ascribe it to the lack of food, or to the shock of seeing blood pouring from my love spud, I keeled over, only to awaken five minutes later with bright orange carpet burns across my face.
After another hasty trip to the doctors I was told I had nothing to worry about… but the pills that I had been forced to buy at the hospital were all wrong and that I had to buy some more.
I have another visit to the doc’s tomorrow, where –hopefully – I should be given the all-clear, and then it’s just a matter of waiting for my ulcers to heal – they’re looking much healthier so I am quite optimistic…
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Post by Minion on Jun 7, 2008 18:21:22 GMT
An awesome tale Streaker my boy. One to impress ladies with As for me I have had both painful and hilirious injuries. I did hit my face when coming off my pedal bike over the handle bars once. Only a broken nose but the worst bit was amnesia for over 24 hours. Couldn't remember where I lived, my phone number or anything. All I really remember about that day is the doctor at A&E tutting loudly when asking me if I'd worn a cycle helmet and me replying 'no'. As if the helmet would have protected my nose and jaw anyway... Worse injury by far is having my hand surgically rebuilt with a bone graft from my hip. Having exposed pins in your hand that get caught on things all the time is no fun, less fun when after 6 months they decide to remove them with, and I quote, 'surgical pin removers'. Imagine my suprirse/horror/****ing my pants-ness when Doctor Ralph Muller (German chap) comes in holding a pair of pliers. Having pins that went through skin, muscle, bone, etc, which had partially bent inside the hand as I got movement back over time, forcefully removed was the most pain I have ever had to experience. Not even the rather attractive nurse who was bodily pinning my chest and arm down whilst Doc Muller went at the pins with all his might made it any more bearable.
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Post by Phill on Jun 7, 2008 18:42:30 GMT
I once had "something" wrong downstairs. In the end the only conceivable solution was an operation. Last I heard they still didn't know exactly what was wrong with me.
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Post by Devil Soundwave on Jun 7, 2008 20:42:17 GMT
Blimey. So did it heal, or did you lose one of your boys?
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Post by Phill on Jun 7, 2008 21:20:38 GMT
Didn't lose a boy. It was more of a Jewish cut
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Post by Steelimus Prime on Jun 7, 2008 21:23:40 GMT
That is a great story Streaker I've had many a horrendous injury but I wouldn't trade all of them for that one. I'm sure I've told people here about my various physical disasters but That was probably years ago when Mrs. Steel tried too count my scars and lost track over the hundred mark. Earliest one I know off was a popped stitch after my circumcision. Must have been three or something. I lost my front two teeth when I was about five when I was riding my down the path outside our house and the wind blew the gate shut. I sort of slammed face first into it and it bust out several of my baby teeth. In Gibraltar I was a part of some lovely gang based territory wars (we were all only around 9 so it was nothing too extreme) and I took a rock right in the forehead, busting it open so I could actually see my skull. Still got that scar when I raise my eyebrows. Also on the Rock I took a bit of a swan dive when we were scaling a small cliff. Mashed the back of my head that time. Got quite a few stitches and when my hair grew back it was gray in that area. I still have a little gray streak on the right side of my head. In boarding School some idiot older kid thought he could bully me for my money and tried too scare me with a knife too my face. I kicked him in the nards... not the brightest thing as he slashed the left side of my face. Sort of running from just under my eye and down the side f my nose. He got expelled though... still I almost lost an eye. I was bottled a few times in my mid teens... oh and fell of the roof of our old house. Two stories right onto paving slabs. When I went too China I ended up in countless fights so I still have a few lingering scars from then. There are the usual such as a split eye brow, bust my lower lip, split my chin and along my cheekbone. Lost two molar teeth thanks too an awesome heel kick. Went blind in one eye due too extreme swelling. but those were the tamer ones... Got slashed a second time by a bunch of muppets, but it glanced off a rib rather than being a stabbing. Was pushed off a bridge and fell through some ice, almost drowned and I got hypothermia (woooo!). I fell through a rusty old roof and got a large rusty spike in my left thigh. It went all the way through and I did the one thing you should never do and pulled it out. Its quite a scary thing when you see so much of your own blood that you fear for your life. It was a wee bit of a spurter. Even though I made it too hospital (I walked!! : the wound ended up getting infected and they put me on some heavy painkillers and antibiotics. Killed the fever and infection but I didn't react too well too what they were pumping into me and started too hallucinate. I woke up too see a mosquito the size of a Labrador sitting on my chest, sucking up my insides... was lovely. When I came back too the UK I got hit by a car as I walked across the street outside my old flat. A Gray Capree came racing around thr corner and I ended up smashing his windscreen before bouncing off down the street.... I oddly got up right away and freaked the guy out by shouting at him so he drove off. That cost him his licence. I've been hit by a car in china too but they drive so slow I did more damage to the taxi than it did too me. But the best of all is the stupidly large scar I have spanning across my back when I was "assisted" through a window and then a glass table, leaving an awesome lightning shaped scar all down my back (Fork lighting not camp Harry Potter lighting) I never did find out how many stitched it took too sow that one back up. Couldn't speak the language at the time. Fortunately I heal really well and most people cant actually tell that I'm like a patchwork freak. You can see the one on my back but nearly all the others can only be seen in certain lighting conditions (where they look oddly shiny... why is scar tissue shiny?) Despite all this though I've never broken a single bone.
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Post by Sunstreaker on Jun 7, 2008 21:29:22 GMT
That is a great story Streaker I've had many a horrendous injury but I wouldn't trade all of them for that one. I'm sure I've told people here about my various physical disasters but That was probably years ago when Mrs. Steel tried too count my scars and lost track over the hundred mark. Earliest one I know off was a popped stitch after my circumcision. Must have been three or something. I lost my front two teeth when I was about five when I was riding my down the path outside our house and the wind blew the gate shut. I sort of slammed face first into it and it bust out several of my baby teeth. In Gibraltar I was a part of some lovely gang based territory wars (we were all only around 9 so it was nothing too extreme) and I took a rock right in the forehead, busting it open so I could actually see my skull. Still got that scar when I raise my eyebrows. Also on the Rock I took a bit of a swan dive when we were scaling a small cliff. Mashed the back of my head that time. Got quite a few stitches and when my hair grew back it was gray in that area. I still have a little gray streak on the right side of my head. In boarding School some idiot older kid thought he could bully me for my money and tried too scare me with a knife too my face. I kicked him in the nards... not the brightest thing as he slashed the left side of my face. Sort of running from just under my eye and down the side f my nose. He got expelled though... still I almost lost an eye. I was bottled a few times in my mid teens... oh and fell of the roof of our old house. Two stories right onto paving slabs. When I went too China I ended up in countless fights so I still have a few lingering scars from then. There are the usual such as a split eye brow, bust my lower lip, split my chin and along my cheekbone. Lost two molar teeth thanks too an awesome heel kick. Went blind in one eye due too extreme swelling. but those were the tamer ones... Got slashed a second time by a bunch of muppets, but it glanced off a rib rather than being a stabbing. Was pushed off a bridge and fell through some ice, almost drowned and I got hypothermia (woooo!). I fell through a rusty old roof and got a large rusty spike in my left thigh. It went all the way through and I did the one thing you should never do and pulled it out. Its quite a scary thing when you see so much of your own blood that you fear for your life. It was a wee bit of a spurter. Even though I made it too hospital (I walked!! : the wound ended up getting infected and they put me on some heavy painkillers and antibiotics. Killed the fever and infection but I didn't react too well too what they were pumping into me and started too hallucinate. I woke up too see a mosquito the size of a Labrador sitting on my chest, sucking up my insides... was lovely. When I came back too the UK I got hit by a car as I walked across the street outside my old flat. A Gray Capree came racing around thr corner and I ended up smashing his windscreen before bouncing off down the street.... I oddly got up right away and freaked the guy out by shouting at him so he drove off. That cost him his licence. I've been hit by a car in china too but they drive so slow I did more damage to the taxi than it did too me. But the best of all is the stupidly large scar I have spanning across my back when I was "assisted" through a window and then a glass table, leaving an awesome lightning shaped scar all down my back (Fork lighting not camp Harry Potter lighting) I never did find out how many stitched it took too sow that one back up. Couldn't speak the language at the time. Fortunately I heal really well and most people cant actually tell that I'm like a patchwork freak. You can see the one on my back but nearly all the others can only be seen in certain lighting conditions (where they look oddly shiny... why is scar tissue shiny?) Despite all this though I've never broken a single bone. [glow=red,2,300] Wow...
[/glow]
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Post by Steelimus Prime on Jun 7, 2008 21:39:37 GMT
When all piled up like that it does seem a fair amount of punishment I have too say.
Oh and I've suffered Clinical Death six times. Over fifteen minutes in total. All when I was a baby though.
and people wonder why I'm crazy
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Post by Xbot on Jun 7, 2008 21:56:33 GMT
proof...I want to see proof!
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Post by Sunstreaker on Jun 7, 2008 22:36:55 GMT
proof...I want to see proof! [glow=red,2,300] You just wanna see scantilly clad pictures of Steely!
I've got your number mister!
[/glow]
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