One of Many Installments

Oh my God, do I have a story for you guys.

It’s a scar story.

My parents had started to expand on the back of the house, and had enclosed the original patio to make a room. This meant they needed to lay concrete for a new patio, behind the kitchen and garage where there wasn’t one before.

Now anyone who knows how concrete works, knows you need to put in a frame and dig out an area, which results with a palpable lip on your final product.

Source

 

I did not know this.

So there I was, going out to do my chores and checking on whichever animal was baking babies then.

I grew up in an unincorporated rural area, and the norm was to raise your own food.

We had rabbits, chickens, ducks, a goose, a vegetable garden, fruit trees,
and of course a hunting dog and barn cat - all in our half-acre yard.

In retrospect, it was a lot of work to keep all that up, but with four capable kids,
and my parents’ green thumbs, we always managed to flourish.

 

Actually From One of Our Photo Albums

On this particular day, if I remember correctly, we had birthed some bunnies.

In my excitement, I of course ran back to the house to share the good news.

I totally forgot about the new patio.

That lip grabbed my foot when I was sprinting full tilt, and I went DOWN.

I tried to catch myself with my hands, like any person would, but either the downward force, or the sheer speed of my body was too much, and my hands just skittered on without me, leaving my face as the next drag.

My entire nose was almost ripped off.

The skin was definitely gone, from my brow line to the tip of my nose.

Luckily, mom heard the catastrophic squeaking of my proverbial brakes and the subsequent thump, so she came outside to see the damage, instead of me dragging my gushing pulp of a face into the house.

My nose of course was bleeding in the overzealous, melodramatic manner that facial/head wounds often do, which horrified my mom and gave her ‘Nam flashbacks to when the cat tore my face open.

Not me, but basically the same

Another trip to the E.R. was in order, and frankly overdue as it had been a few years since I had something stitched.

Mom hem and hawed the whole drive,
terrified I had broken my nose as she watched it swell and the raccoon eyes plumped up.

We got in pretty quick, since again, my face just wouldn’t quit.

I don’t even know how they managed xrays, but I’m pretty sure it involved a moist 5 pounds of gauze to stave the bleeding from destroying their radiology department.

Luckily, it turned out I had not broken it, to literally everyone’s amazement.

I did however, end up looking like Owen Wilson after a barfight for a good month while it all healed.

Thank God I didn't need glasses yet, but those black eye adventures are for another day.
Wanna hear more scar stories?
Tell me about it in the comments!