“Success is getting up one more time than you fall down.”
I’ve had lots of stitches in my life.
I don’t think anyone would describe me as graceful. I’m a very clumsy person. That clumsiness started young.
I was maybe in second grade.My cat Whiskers had recently had a litter of kittens. They were getting everywhere, and Whiskers was hiding them in the strangest spots. So my mom, dad, and brother decided that we needed to build a sort of “kennel” to keep them and Whiskers in while we were gone during the day.
Supplies had been gathered (some wood and chicken wire) and building had started. We were working away for a couple of hours. (I’m guessing I was more of a hinderance than a help.) We had put up our impromptu shop in the gravel drive way that led to the basement.
We had made lots of progress and now it was time for lunch. My mom and brother had already went inside to get some food together. I decided I wanted to stay (I don’t know what I thought I was going to accomplish).
I had a hammer in my hand and walked across the gravel to the makeshift table holding all the extra supplies. I was swinging my tool as I walked. The pebbles of the drive slipped from under my feet. I fell flat on my back with a thud. That part wasn’t so bad, just knocked the breath out of me.
The problem was I had lost the hammer. As I came down I had flung the hammer up so I could use my hands to catch myself. I saw one flash of sliver off the claws of the hammer before it struck my face.
When I recovered my wits enough I walked myself back inside. In the time that took (under two minutes) the corner of my eye had swelled enough that I couldn’t see out of it anymore. My mom rushed me to the emergency room. Next thing I knew a needle was weaving in and out of my vision. Three stitches later I was good as new.
I was incredibly lucky that the hammer didn’t land on “tails.” The strike was close enough to my eye that if it had landed claws down I’d be wearing a glass one today. Now, unless you watch me apply my concealer (or specifically look for it on the days I don’t wear makeup) you’d never know I have a scar about the size of a pea on the outside corner of my left eye.
So there you have it, my first two experiences with stitches were both blows taken to the face, one with a hammer and one with a pool.
I think it’s safe to say I made sure my parents lives weren’t boring. 🙂