Saturday, March 26, 2011

5 Stitches

Apparently, I have the balance of a 5 year old.

I was sprinting across the house, over newly mopped tile, tried to turn, slipped, didn't quite put my hands out in time, and smashed the floor with my head. At first, I thought I'd managed to catch myself, then the headache caught up, and when I clutched my jaw, which had taken the brunt of the blow, felt the chipped tooth, and then noticed the blood on my shirt.

Checked in the mirror, and there's a little bloody half circle on my chin and blood running down my neck. I washed it off, it just looked like a tiny cut, and put a bandaid over it. Plus some rubbing alcohol, which stings like hell. 20 minutes later, blood was spreading out from the bandaid and my parents noticed. They took me to the emergency room for some stitches. I thought that was pointless, it looked fine, but they thought I should go; my father's main argument was to stop it from scarring.

So. I explained to the doctor what had happened and he laughed the whole time he was stitching me up. Apparently, this specific placement of the cut, and method of getting it is really common among 5 year olds, who are still learning how to walk, but haven't yet learned to put their hands out for a fall. I'm in college, people. This dumb cut took 5 stitches. He was pretty funny about it, actually, had me smiling while he pulled a chunk of metal and thread through my face.

I'm going to feel like an idiot explaining this to my friends.

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