The first serious accident of my life I only remember hearing about because I was so young when it happened, but I still carry the scar today. I had to have been less than two years old, and I understand that I found an extension cord which I put in my mouth. The crazy thing is, whatever was plugged into the extension cord was not plugged in all the way and I touched my lip to the exposed plug. I do not know all of the details of what happened, but I know it burned away part of my lip (in the very corner where my top and bottom lips meet on the right side of my mouth) and I must have had quite the scab for a while. As if this was not enough excitement for my parents, a very short time later (while my lip was still trying to heal), I fell in the bathtub. Dad was giving me a bath while Mom was at work. I guess he either stepped out of the bathroom briefly or just turned his head, but somehow, I first stood up and then slipped and fell, hitting my already-busted-open lip on the faucet. I understand that my lip then became the faucet, and I was bleeding…a LOT. For some reason, Dad thought running cold water over my cut would make it stop bleeding so that is what he was trying to do when Mom came home from work. Fortunately, Mom’s nursing/first aid skills knew I needed pressure on the wound, so she applied pressure and my lip eventually quit bleeding. Again, I’m too young to remember this, but my understanding is that the bathtub incident could have ended very badly.
On these next two, I’m not sure which came first, but I don’t think chronological order matters. Our family took several family vacations to Horn Creek family camp in Colorado and one of their activities was horseback riding. I only vaguely remember going for the ride. I both liked it and I was scared. I rode behind one of my parents, I don’t remember which it was, but at some point, the horse shied, and I fell off. I roughly remember sitting under a tree or along the trail for a while and then I guess we went back to the lodge. I do not have very vivid memories of this time, but I am told I complained of back pains after that. Some years later (again, I am told, I do not really remember), I attended a prayer meeting with Mom. I was prayed for, and Mom said I described having a warm feeling. I think she assumed that the Lord had healed my heart condition, but it turns out my back was healed at that prayer meeting, and I did not complain about back pains after that.
I got another scar as a young child around the time I was 3 years old. Mom and I went over to a friend’s house and I was told that their dog just had puppies, so I should stay out of the garage where they were being kept. My friend wanted to get something out of the garage, and I knew better than go in, but I stood by the door as he was preparing to go in. When he opened the door, I peered in, and the mother dog leapt out and bit me on the nose. Mom said panicked when she heard me screaming. Mom, ever the nurse, told her friend not to worry, she could tell by my screams that I was running to her. This is the dog bite where I rubbed my nose on the couch to avoid scratching the itch while my mom was on the phone with the doctor (read previous story for details).
When I was in preschool, I was running in a parking lot while wearing cowboy boots. Because the soles were slick, I fell and busted out my front tooth. Mom took me to the dentist, and I had to have the root of the tooth removed. It was a baby tooth that would have fallen out naturally not too much later, so I was just front toothless a short time longer than natural. I don’t think it was a serious deal, but that is where my “million-dollar tooth” (as I now call it) began. First, I busted out my baby tooth, then my permanent tooth grew in. In the 4th grade, I busted out the same tooth while swinging around a basketball goal. That tooth was temporarily capped I believe. Later I had a root canal and crown. I got braces in high school and at some point, I got my dead tooth filed down, and cap put on it so that the dead, gray top part of my tooth no longer showed. As an adult, this crown came lose. The dentist tried to glue it back on, but it did not go on right and I appeared to have a “giant tooth”. This made me very self-conscious, so I eventually had it repaired. In just a couple of years’ time, I had to have another root canal (along with the tooth next to that one). I was still having problems, so I had to have an apicoectomy which is basically a root canal on the top tip of your tooth’s root and then I had a “permanent” crown put on. That went bad, too, and I eventually had to have the tooth pulled and replaced with a bridge. All that work, over time = “million-dollar tooth”!
Since I’m sharing accidents that weren’t really serious now, just a couple more. When I was six years old there was a neighborhood cat that hung around. He was friendly most of the time which is why I had no problem petting him when he showed up in driveway and laid down for me to pet him. I now know it was NOT a good idea to try rubbing his belly. He grabbed my wrist with his front paws and scratched the SNOT out of my arm with his back legs. I just remember it was all very painful and took a while to heal.
I remember having to get stitches twice in Jr. High and High School. One time our Uncle Don was visiting, and my sister and I were playing in the back yard. The rule was no playing outside when our parents were gone (a safety thing), but since Uncle Don was there, I reasoned it was OK to play catch in the back yard while my parents were out square dancing. The ball went under a three-beam-fence, so I ran up to the fence and rolled under it to get the ball. Turns out there was a quarter of an acorn shell, with a very sharp point, on the ground right where my knee hit. Needless to say, my parents were not thrilled to come home from square dancing to take me to get stitches when we weren’t supposed to be outside in the first place.
The last story is also about getting stitches…on my 17th birthday. While Mom was in the kitchen cooking my birthday meal, I was sharpening a pocketknife on a sharpening stone. The knife slipped (newly sharpened) and sliced open my thumb. I was not serious, but I was pretty sure it would require stitches. I went in to show Mom and as I walked into the kitchen here response was, “Oh Rob, I was trying to surprise you with your birthday meal.” I apologized and told her I was pretty sure she would need to see this, and so I went to the hospital for stiches on my 17th birthday.
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