OK, who's had a more bizarre accident than the one I had the other night?

(This is actually pretty damn funny, so I won't be offended if anyone laughs.)

I was taking my dinner plate into the kitchen after dinner.

Something that doesn't seem too dangerous, yes?

But then I tripped over the blasted dog. The plate went down, with me following it chin-first just as it shattered on the floor (it happened so quickly I didn't even have time to get my hands down in front of me).

Mrs R ran over, and I sat up and asked her to just get me a Band-Aid, but then she pulled a piece of broken porcelain about the size of a guitar pick out of the cut on my chin. This, of course, was like un-kinking a garden hose, so I started spraying blood all over the kitchen floor, so she said, "Ah, no, no Band-Aid this time; I can see your chin bone at the bottom of the cut."

So I got to do the whole 911-ambulance ride thing, with the cervical collar and attendant concerned (and wonderful) EMTs, (even though they never turned on the siren, dammit).

It turned out to not be so bad, though, at least I didn't break any teeth, or take a piece of broken plate in the eye or neck, and no cervical-spine damage from snapping my head back so hard. Did collect concussion #5, but a mild one this time so I probably won't get very much more idiotic than I am now.

The doctor who sewed me up (total count: 11) (and pulled about a half-dozen pieces of porcelain about the size of #00 buckshot out of the cut) gave me all kinds of dire warnings about scarring because of the depth and width of the gash, but it turns out he's a better stitcher than he gives himself credit for.

Based on what he said, I thought I was going to have to grow my beard back, or do like the pirates and tell people "Ar,'twas a tough battle, it were, but ye need to be seeing the other two bloody sods who thought they could take on the likes o' me."

Fortunately, when we took the pressure bandage off to clean things up and switch to a regular bandage, it ended up not looking so bad at all. The cut is below the point of my chin, so only someone looking up at my face (hey, wait a minute, that would be just about everyone, given my height, wouldn't it?) would be able to see the scar very much.

I learned my lesson. From now on, I'm carrying anything breakable off to the side instead of in front of me.

And I'm painting the dog International Safety Orange as well.

I'll bet there are a few of you who can top that for a strange accident. Tell us about it.

Redstone

Glad you're okay.

Redstone

You know, after concussion #5 has had its way with you, and you're sure the stitches are the worst you'll need. Glad to hear you're ok.

It was a gashed chin, not something horrible like a heart attack, so why not try to lighten things up for all concerned?

My philosophy, unusual though it may be.

Redstone

11 stitches, man oh man!

mashed potatoes and asparagus.

Worth stitches any day

Redstone

taking heed of your lesson!)

I would put some kind of bell on the dog so you can hear his location.

Redstone

Holy crikey, Redstone! Glad it wasn't worse.

Redstone

and I'm not really tall, but you still can't see it.

At the age of ten, I decided that it would be a really good idea to ride my bike up the side of a gas pump at a nearby service station.

No, I don't know why I thought it was a neat idea. But I figured if I went fast enough, I could hit it, go right up and over the pump, and land on the other side.

This was long before Evel Knevel, so I can't blame him.

Like you, I landed chin-first. Not much between the skin and the bone, so, yeah, the blood was prodigious. And I can still feel where the tip of the jaw bone was dented.

But, this is what you get for not letting the dog sit at the table during dinner. They ALWAYS get even, didn't you know that?

I'm glad you're OK. You're going to ridiculous lengths, you know, to get attention. I mean, tripping over the dog? Really?

Cut it out.

And get back here. You're missed. And needed .......................................

during dinner" rule.

So I can't blame the pooch for setting up the ambush.

As far as "getting back here" goes, I appreciate the sentiment. But it won't be for a few more weeks; I have some big honkin' projects to get finished by June 7, and I have to do them with the current mildly-rattled brain or not.

But I'll get back here when I can, promise.

Redstone

I'm so glad you are okay. No scar can do harm to your gorgeousness. :hug:

Okay, my weird accident.

I was about 8 years old and my mom told me to go get my sister from upstairs, it was time for dinner. I had been waiting anxiously to eat and had my spoon in hand (it was a cold winter night and we were having my favorite, grilled cheese sandwiches made on the waffle griddle and Campbell's vegetable vegetarian soup).

Well, I went to my sister's room and hurried her along and she ran down the stairs in front of me. I was right on her heels when she suddenly stopped just before reaching the bottom step. I collided with her, the spoon in my hand (with the spoon part in my hand) shot up and the handle went up my nose, rupturing whatever it is that is up there. My nose was squirting blood probably a lot like your chin did when MrsR removed your porcelain guitar pick.

Well, my folks rushed me to the base hospital and all they could do was pack it. You can't stitch up there. I was told I had to remain still, no jumping, bike riding, horse play. That is hard enough for an 8 year old tomboy, but Christmas was in a few days and I was supposed to get a bike and other toys.

So that's my tale - knock on wood, I've never broken a bone or had a stitch.

:hi:

you may have topped me on this one.

Edit: Since the cut is below the point of my chin, it doesn't affect the chin cleft that makes them wimmens go so wild (joke here, as you know, but I appreciated what you said).

Redstone

and my sister did it on purpose - she was like that, she knew I was excited and she was tormenting me. x(

so glad you weren't hurt worse and that you are able to laugh at it.

A baseball bat to the nose = broken nose #1.
A horse head to the nose = broken nose #2.

Nope, I think you still win.

you felot on those occasions. Man, when you take a good shot to the schnozz, it's hard to do a damn thing except sit down, pinch your nose, and have tears running from your eyes, isn't it>

Last time I rode a horse, he didn't break my nose, but he deliberately rubbed my leg against an electric fence...then laid down on my leg until I punched him enough times to make him get off me.

I like animals, I really do, but THAT horse was pure evil.

Redstone

the only thing worse than a dumb horse is a smart horse.

That can get REAL horrid.

Redston

My wife and I had just moved back to NH after I finished law school, and we were staying with my parents until we could get settled. I was helping my mother clean up after dinner one Sunday night, and volunteered to carry a big-ass turkey down to the fridge in the basement where she keeps bulky leftovers. I stumbled and splashed a bit of grease on the floor, then promptly stepped into this grease. My arms, legs, and the turkey then all shot off in different directions.

It was probably hillarious to watch (ok, it definitely was, my father said as much), but I wrenched my back out of whack in the process, and was hobbling around funny for two weeks afterwards.

I don't see the problem here. :shrug:

just the way this one happened.

Redstone

Redstone

acquired simultaneously with a broken toe, and a lovely matching set of broken wrists when I got thrown off a horse just outside Telluride, Colorado in '83 and hit the ground pretty hard...hard enough for broken bones or stitches literally head to toe, and considering my chin hit the ground hard enough for stitches, I'm damned lucky I didn't snap my head back hard enough to break my neck or something. Having casts up almost to my shoulders on both arms was interesting too; they cut an opening on one of em so that I once I was able to grip things, I could feed myself; for the 1st 2 weeks I ate when somebody fed me. Learned interesting skills like tying shoelaces without using thumbs ,and also learned that a state of obvious helplessness brings out the nurturing instinct in women, to my utter surprise I actually ended up getting laid quite a bit while those casts were on; shoulda kept em dammit... .Also, amazingly, it was my second broken toe of the weekend ( lesson learned from broken toe # 1: do NOT run , outdoors, and drunk, on a pitch black, moonless night...)There was no doctor in town but the town nurse fixed me up before I could get back to Albuquerque and get properly fixed up in the hospital...Still remember her technical medical diagnosis upon seeing me: "wow, you're a mess". They shot me with demerol in the hospital for the wrists; (highly, no pun intended , recommended by the way...although I apparently mumbled something to the doctors about can I take some of this stuff home for my friends--pretty blurry memory, but I think it was something like that, and I was not given any more demerol; note to self: keep your damn mouth shut)........Once again, glad you're OK , had been wondering how your health was doing since your last posts ( at least the last one I saw).

Jeez, it sounds like you're as dumb as I am about the concept of "If you're already broken, don't do stuff that will break you even more."

I like people with that characteristic. It tells me I'm not alone.

Redstone

and haven't been drunk in at least 20 years, if not more. That also helps with not injuring myself as much anymore . When I think about the stuff I used to do drunk ( and other types of altered consciousness) its somewhere between a fluke, random luck, or maybe inexplicable intervention by a god with equally inexplicable taste, that I'm still alive. And shoes one handed. I AM impressed; I just had to make do without using my thumbs.And nah, you're not alone; again I think its the musician in us. And being serious for a second, my very best wishes on overcoming the health issues you've been facing, to whatever extent is possible:hi:

with an Afghan hound on a leash. She lived with my family for a year while her humans lived in Scotland. We got across the street alright but hit an icy patch on the driveway of a little store. She maintained traction with her toenails, I tried to "brake" and pitched forward, not daring to let go of the leash. I landed on my outstretched arm. My upper arm felt numb and I thought I had fractured the humerus. Fortunately my friend was walking to the store with me, so she called my mom from a phone booth. Mom took me to the doc, he gave me an anti-nausea pill, sent us to the ER for "reduction" of a dislocated shoulder. They shot my arm up with demerol, waited a few minutes, had the nurse on one side of the exam table pulling on a draw sheet wrapped around my torso while the doc pulled on my arm on the other side to get it back in place.
In the 41 years since then it has dislocated about 8-9 more times (I lost count!) All but three of those times I got it back in myself.
I hope your chin heals well!
Carry scissors and pencils points down!

with the help of a nearby wall or chair (or non-squeamish other person)...trust me, the procedure to eliminate those occasional dislocations is NOT worth going through.

Redstone

Reaching under the bed, for example, is a no-no. Once I woke up with it out, and I felt woozy, as though I might faint, so I put my head between my knees and as I leaned down the joint readjusted into a normal position. The last time I couldn't get it "relocated" because the muscles started to tighten, so I went to the ER. The doc there told me the best way to get it back in is to try reach over my head to the opposing ear right after it happens, before the muscles tighten up.
Have you had shoulder surgery?

We've got a border collie mix...about 65 lbs (he gets a lot of biscuits).
Anyway, he takes up a substantial amount of space, so you have to gauge how much room you need to step over him. So you get it all figured out, make your move, and he decides to lift his head or shift himself just enough to trip you. Then he gives you this look that seems to say, "It's ok...I still love you even when you step on me like a clod".

eating, so she just lurks behind the kitchen counters where she knows the scraps will pass by.

Redstone

I have mild cerebral palsy, however, at 48 I get clumsier as the day gets longer. I cannot 'splain my bruises, because I just can't remember every little bump. And lately it's gone beyond bruises, and more into cuts that scar.
:hug:

spectacular from a blood-loss standpoint as this accident was.

Have there been any recent advances in CP treatment, or is is still progressive?

Redstone

I've only got four.

My 'funniest' injury was the black eye from the horse. I was untacking her after riding. Took the bridle off, tried to slip the halter on. She jerked her head away from me, hit it on the post next her, swung her head back and smacked me on the ridge above the eye. Broke the edge of the eye socket. It bled so much into the eye area I went blind in that eye for about a week. I had the most gorgeous black eye, went from my eyebrow to mid cheek by the next weekend.

That weekend I was taking the mare's colt to a show. I had to lead him into the class, walk to the first judge, then trot to the second judge. Walk, all fine and good. Trot - I took a couple of steps and WHAM! something smacked into my right leg. Observers told me the colt took one trotting step, then jigged to his right, then kicked to his left, right into my right thigh. Of course, being blind on that side, I didn't see it coming.

We finished the class, won it and got second for the show for stallions overall.

Later that year, the same colt reared and tore up the rotator cuff in my left arm, but that is another injury and a different story.

said than done, isn't it, but it sounds like you really hung in there.

I salute you for your persistence, continuing to work with the horses (who you obviously love), despite the damage that can result from that love of such a large animal.

Redstone

But even though I don't ride anymore, I can't give them up. I still have four mares, one the daughter of the colt that tore up my shoulder. The colt was sold - I could not justify keeping a second stallion when I owned his sire, dam and granddam. So when this filly hit the ground and is flat out one of the most beautiful horses I ever saw, I decided to keep her and let him go.

Do you blame me?


How is your injury doing? How's the dog?

Isn't it amazing that the filly's legs are almost as long as her mom's? Is the filly still a baby, or was this picture taken a while ago?
I'm going to send the picture to my cousin because she had a couple of horses when she was younger, and as you said, it's hard to give them up.

The owner of the sire opted to keep that filly and loves her to death. I kept that filly's older sister - Goldy and the son of the stallion owner kept the first colt out of that mare.

Other horse pictures of my horses are at http://woodswell.com/Photos/Horses/index.html But I have not updated anything in quite a while.

... that seem to line the freeways around here, the orange paint won't help.

Some tips to try:

Don't carry dishes without a helmet.

Don't text while carrying dishes.

Don't apply your make=up while carrying dishes.

Learn new martial art: how to fall while carrying dishes. The porcelain form of kung fu, or dish-o-ryu.

Hey, did you at least get some good pills out of the deal?

:hi:

the damn laceration has not hurt one bit throughout the whole process (even when the Novocaine wore off after the stitching), believe it or not. Just some itching, which is good because it denotes healing.

I like the new martial-art idea, though; maybe I could parlay it into national franchises.

Redstone

inward from the point of my chin.

I've not had a history of being lucky in general in my life, but the few times I've had the luck, it made a BIG difference (life or death, I kid you not), not just finding a good parking spot.

Thanks for asking.

Redsone

somehow my husband got a foreign hair stuck in his ear drum. His ear was hurting, and when he went to the doctor and had it examined, the doctor pulled the hair out and asked my husband how on earth he managed to get a hair stuck in it. He had no idea. I still find that strange.

It was one of those thin flat glass things. The shade shattered and a big shard came down and stuck in my right forearm. Lot of bleeding and a trip to the ER to stitch it up. Other than my pride, though, no real harm done. It did leave a little scar which I can barely find now - this was about 20 years ago.

Redstone

Good to here you are taking it in stride.