I'll Show You Mine, Will You Show Me Yours?

Ha, first of all, get your dirty minds out of the gutter. Really now. I can't believe your minds went there!

The question is, do you have a scar? Is it a small scar, a big scar, a scary scar? Let me tell you the story of mine. And if by chance you've seen this blog from me before, ummmm, pretend you don't know the story. I rightly can't remember if I just mentioned it in passing, or on someone else's blog. I do know I have never devoted a whole post to it.

I was in 6th grade. I was the roller skating queen of my street. You could see me skating, up and down the sidewalk. Clear to the end of the street. One day I was adding a little trip around the car and back up to the sidewalk, and so on. Our driveway had a down slope to it. I was on the down part, when my younger brother pushed me and I was going so fast that I couldn't make my turn. I was headed right towards the garage door, that had 3 windows on it. Being the young, smart thinker that I am, I thought, "hey, I'll just put my hand out to stop me". Famous last words from a 6th grader. My hand hit smack dab in the middle of one of the windows.

I remember skating into the house. Drip, drip, dripping blood on my way in. I remember my dad standing at the kitchen sink doing dishes. I told him I was bleeding. He took one look, took my arm and held it over the sink, yes the sink full of dishes. My mom came downstairs and he said, "go up to the bedroom and call the doctor". Yup boys and girls, this was back in the 60's when there was no such thing as 9-1-1 or paramedics. Doctor says, I'll meet you at the hospital. My dad told my mom she was driving. He held his hands around the top of my arm and was squeezing as hard as he could.

We get to the hospital, and they load me in a wheelchair. Put my arm on the brightest white pillow case I have ever seen. And soon, said pillowcase was white no more. I was slowly becoming a bright red color. We are just waiting for our doctor to get there. My mom comes in and asks the nurse if she can see my arm. There was a reason my dad didn't want her to see it. They lifted the towel they had draped on top of it and my mom's face went from normal color, to ghostly white. I actually watched the blood drain from her face. It was a weird thing to watch.

Apparently my arm had been cut in a Y shape. To the bone. Tendons and muscles were curled up to the top by my elbow. I did see that. They had to stitch everything back together. Olden day hospital stuff. Ha. They did all this in the emergency room. They didn't call in specialists. Our general practitioner doctor did the stitching. They did take the Y and make it a straight line.

132 stitches later I was on my way home.

I know, you have to look closely to the picture. Over the last 40 years it's lightened up. I remember when I was younger, it would go bright red when I was cold or hot.

Please link on up with your own story. I really can't wait to see and hear all about yours.