Thursday, July 14, 2011

1. The Story of My Most Serious Injury

I was a tom boy growing up.  I did the same things the boys did, except for standing up to pee.  I got the same brier scratches on my legs and arms, mosquito bites from endless hours outside during the summer, I got to build forts and make paths through the brush with tree clippers, I got to play in the creek, I got to listen to the boys cuss while the girls weren't allowed, I got to sweat my ass off while the boys got to take off their shirts (I got caught the one time I took my shirt off because I was hot and got yelled at for it).  I semi-endured them making fun of me because I was a girl and because I was left handed, until I decided that I'd had enough and was going home, so they couldn't ball anymore because you needed more than 2 people to play (and they probably don't remember that, but I do).

For the most part, I had little fear.  Some would have even called me fearless when it came to doing certain things.  Except if Teh Mom told me there was a fire and I needed to put on pants... then I just freak out and stand there, and when I do decide to put on clothes, I put on Teh Mom's pants.  True story.

Teh Megan, Doug, and Teh Sister
When I was in the 6th grade, we got an exchange student, through church.  His name was Doug.  He was from Brazil.  He was pretty cool, but he called Teh Mom a punta (bitch) once in Portuguese and some how she ended up finding out what it meant AND talking to his mom the same day.  He wore a ridiculous amount of Calvin Klein Eternity, especially when he woke up late and didn't have time to shower because I was already in it, stealing all the hot water.  He didn't like to put his clothes in the hamper, which meant that he often wore dirty clothes.  He was used to having a maid at home, and well, we didn't have one of those.  He loved cheesy rice, and we could go through a block of Velveeta cheese in about a week.  He also love lee-mon juice, or lime juice.  He didn't really have a preference.  He introduced me to Roxette and what a discman was (its a portable cd player for those of you who have only ever had an ipod).  Doug also knew either Jiu-Jitsu or Capoeira, not sure which it was.

One day, Doug was tasked with raking the leaves in the yard.  It wasn't something he really wanted to do, so he bitched and complained and eventually went outside to do it.  Eventually, it was almost dinner time, so Teh Mom sent me outside to tell Doug it was time to come in.  He had done most of the raking and was in the lower part of the yard, where he didn't have to rake, making a pile.  I yelled for him, and he didn't hear me, so I walked down to where he was.  He didn't hear me come up to him because he was listening to his discman, so I ran up and pretend I was going to jump in his pile.

Doug:  Meg-ann, NOOOOO!
Me: I was just kidding, its time for supper.
Doug:  Ok.

I was standing there, waiting on him, so we could walk back to the house together and he started doing martial arts moves with the rake.  He had just been going side to side, and I was feeling particularly fearless that day, so I stepped up to him... as he brought the rake down in front of him...  hitting me on the head/upper forehead.  I said, OWW! and put my hand up to my forehead and started walking back to the house.

Then Doug started chasing me.  "Meg-ann, stop!  Stop!"
Me: Stop chasing me, Doug, I'm going inside.
Doug: I'm sorry, Meg-ann, stop.  Come back.

By this point I had almost reached the house, but since he was bigger than me, he'd caught up with me.  He grabbed my arm, and pulled my hand away from my head...  There was blood.  I screamed.  Teh Mom and Dad came running outside, because it was that scream.

Doug started trying to explain what happened, at the same time, I'm trying to explain that it doesn't hurt that I just want to go inside and I wanted Doug to stop chasing me.
Doug: I was only chasing her because she was bleeding, it was an accident, I didn't mean to hit her, I didn't know she was going to step up.
Me: I'm hungry.

Then Teh parents got to have the great debate over if I had to go to the ER or not.  Teh Dad said no, I'd be fine.  Teh Mom said, yes, she is going, otherwise she'll have a huge scar on her head.  Teh Mom won out.  I was still starving and Teh Dad brought me to the ER.  I ended up with a tetnus shot, 2 stitches in my head, some bootie things to go over my shoes, and a huge blue bowl that we later used to soak laundry in..  AND I got to ride back to the car in a wheelchair.

Doug felt pretty bad.  I told him not to worry about it, it was my fault for stepping up while he was swinging around a rake, which he probably shouldn't have been doing.

Sometimes, the scar (but not as big as it could have been, says Teh Mom) itches.  I've still never seen the damn thing, and Teh Mom always has to show me where its at.  I can sometimes feel out where it is, but I can't point it out in a photo.
The estimated location of scar, which I'm determining from the lack of hair in that area, don't judge the face I'm making.
The only other more serious injury than this was when I fractured the growth plate in my left wrist, but its definitely not as fun to tell...  Which was yet another time that Teh Mom won me going to the doc over Teh Dad's not going to the doc...


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