Friday, December 3, 2010

Yesterday, I Stapled my Finger

Pretty catchy title, eh? Figured that some people would just click over here to see what the heck that was all about. I didn't make it up. Honest. I in fact stapled the pad of my index finger while stapling the December page of my desk calendar on my blotter. I accidentally ripped it off while ripping off November's page and had my fingers behind the cardboard for support while stapling and then... The photo to the left is not me BTW. The puncturing of my finger brought back a flood of childhood memories of stupid things I've done to my hands...

  • I was about 8 or 9 and I was playing with...you guessed it, a stapler. My mum told me to quit playing with it (umm...the stapler) or she'd beat the living bejeezus out of me I'd hurt myself. I of course ignored her and ended up ramming a staple, full depth, into the fleshy part of the palm of my hand under my thumb. I couldn't whine about it go to her to ask for help because that would obviously admit stupidity on my part, so I pried it out of my hand with something sharp (obviously not my intellect).

  • Around the same time I was playing the back yard while my dad was working on our fence. I was farting about with his tools and was jabbing a chunk of wood with a particularly cool looking chisel with a clear handle. He said, "That's really sharp, put that doon ye daft wee bugger!" I of course ignored him and kept playing with the chisel...until it slipped and cut the palm of my hand. He may have said, "I told you so...now away and see your mother."

  • I was about 10 years old and had the chore of making the evening cup of tea for my parents and bringing it to them while they watched TV. Heck, that was so long ago television may even have been in B&W (that's black and white, or uncoloured, for you youngsters). Anyway, I boiled the kettle and was pouring it into the teapot and for whatever reason stopped paying attention and poured the boiling water on the top of my left hand above the thumb. It was sure red and swollen and eventually fluid built up into a big bubble and when it was ready to pop...sorry, a bit graphic. Hope nobody was eating their sausage rolls or beef wellingtons while reading that.

  • I was bit in the left thumb while trying to catch a rabid cat in a former career as a short order cook a dog catcher. Except I wasn't a kid when that happened.

  • I was sitting on the floor at my parent's house and was writing something on a bit of paper with a pencil (yes, it was pre-computer days) when I tried to toss the pencil up onto a table, eraser first, and the eraser jambed into the edge of the table and the palm of my hand rammed into the sharpened tip of the pencil. The graphite mark stayed in the palm of my hand for months. Note: I was about 25 years old at the time. Sigh.

  • The first and only time I joined a group of friends playing 'flag football' in the snow I tried to catch a pass and the ball snapped my left thumb back. It really hurt, but the pain my have been numbed by the cold (and alcohol). The next day my thumb had swollen to the size of an Octoberfest sausage and I went to the emergency. I apparently had a 'flake fracture' of the left thumb and they bent up a special splint out of fibreglass so that I could keep working as a draftsman with my drafting machine. Yes, that would be the mid-80's prior to the glory days of AutoCad.

*Sniffs* The memories bring a tear to my eye. Such fond memories. I stayed out of trouble in my 30's by coccooning myself completely in bubble wrap. When possible, I try to have V or Sean use the power tools about the house on my behalf while I drink beer and watch TV cower in fear in the basement.

21 comments:

David Barber said...

HA!!! Jeez, Alan, you sound like me! Mine include pint glasses and a pub window (Drunk, young and stupid!!) I then went onto a football on the tip of my little finger, smashing a joint (Stupidly carried on playing. I was a goalkeeper.) Drilling through the top joint of my left index finger (The bit broke in the drill and it jumped and I landed on my finger, drilling all the way through. There was actual bone on the end of the bit when I inspected it!) The tip of my left index finger and the tip of my left thumb sliced off with a kitchen knife while shredding salad. (2 seperate occasions, I'm not that daft that I'd do it on the same day. Both required hospital treatment!) The list is endless. And now, because of my job and repetitive strain injury, I have "carpal tunnel syndrome".

We need a few beers to discuss our injuries!! :-)

Have a great "safe" weekend!

Milo James Fowler said...

Accident-prone, much? "Put that doon ye daft wee bugger!" Thanks for the laugh. =]
Write1Sub1

Laura Eno said...

You sound just like my son, who is 35 and still having strange accidents - like leaving his hand between the truck and the trailer he was unhitching - surgery.
I also loved the "Put that doon ye daft wee bugger!"

Cathy Webster (Olliffe) said...

I don''t know what's worse, that photo, your flinch-causing tales of woes or David's... OMG, people! I do love it when you quote your father and the lilting way he describes you!
Stay away from sharp objects, ok?

Aaron Polson said...

Oh...Alan. Ouch! I've had the misfortune to staple myself once (or twice?).

Sounds like you have enough misfortune for all of us!

(and I concur with Milo--great Scottish brogue)

Katey said...

Yeah love the brogue--I keep hearing Mike Meyers doing the dad in So I Married an Axe Murderer. "Heed! Get out a the wey!"

Ahem. Obviously, my impression would not be so good as yours.

I have no idea how ANYONE manages to staple themselves--at least not so thoroughly but oh god. Ouch!

Cate Gardner said...

Ouch! How the heck? I use a stapler most days of the week and have so far remained unscathed. Oh crap, I've done it now.

Jhon Baker said...

If it has a sharp point or a fine blade - I will find a way to accidentally ram it into myself somehow and about half the time require stitches. I wonder if it is a writerly thing to be so absentminded.

J. M. Strother said...

What, you didn't remove the staple with your teeth? That's what I would have done. Sorry for all your hand pain, but it was quite amusing to read about. I'm so right-handed all my scars are confined to my right.

Switch to tape.
~

Alan W. Davidson said...

David- Yikes, your hands must be a right mess. Bone on the end of the drill bit [shudders]. I try not to add skin to my salad...between the hand injuries and carpal tunnel, you may have to find a safer job...perhaps working in a video shop or a tea house.

Milo- Thanks. Glad you liked the line. Sometimes, all you've got to do is mine your childhood for good material.

Laura- Ouch! I try not to drop heavy things like trailers on my hands.

Cathy- I think that's why I got into something safe like drafting as a job...though there was that time with the ammonia and the blueprint machine...

Aaron- Glad to hear that school teachers aren't immune to such misfortunes...I bet you could tell a story or two about things kids at school have done to injure themselves...

Katey- Mike Meyers...ha...that was one of my favourite movies. I liked his Scottish wall of fame. And..."There's a piper down!" They should have made a sequel to that.

Cate- Yes, I believe that you have now cursed yourself with that remark.

Jhon- Very true. Perhaps it IS because our minds are elsewhere formulating ideas and molding words. It's funny that I've managed to avoid stitches all these years...(knock on wood)

Jon- "Switch to tape". That made me laugh. Very poignant in its simplicity...I wish I had adopted that strategy as a kid. I wonder, did they have duct tape in the '70's...?

Mark Kerstetter said...

I can't comment because I've never done anything remotely like this. Hardly at all. I mean, there was the time I slashed my arm on the roof removing some stucco and metal mesh, put a cloth over the arm and kept working, then got down because I felt a little faint, whereupon my wife told me - idiot - I needed stitches. Stuff like that, hardly anything at all.

Natalie L. Sin said...

That picture makes my ass clench. I hope your happy : P

Laura Eno said...

I have an award for you on my blog. :)
A Shift in Dimensions

Laurita said...

It's a wonder you were let out of your room. I would say I hope that you didn't pass on these traits to your boy, but we saw the toothbrush holder. Still, the pain is worth it for the great stories you have afterwards.

Don't forget to update your tetanus shot.

Danielle Ferries said...

Ouch. Those are some wounds. And I whinge about paper cuts :)

Entre Nous said...

My computer is broken and in the shop... I have hijacked my son's notebook, and I was in the process of having a pitty party until I read this, you saved me, Thank You :}

Alan W. Davidson said...

Mark- Ha! Where would we be without our wives to show us reason. I thought that artists had to be careful with their hands (and arms).

Nat- I never thought that was possible...you've posted some nasty things at your blog!

Laura- Many thanks, kind lady! I shall adress that soon...

Laurita- Ah, yes...the dreaded toothbrush holder. A small glimpse into the odd thought process of the boy...

Danielle- Ha, guys whinge more about paper cuts than they do about stapled fingers...

Joni- Thanks for taking the initiative of hijacking your son't notebook to stay in touch! Let me know if the party starts and I'll drop by with some whine...

Patricia Stoltey said...

I popped over from Laura Eno's blog to say hi since your link was included ion her list of awards. Thoroughly enjoyed this post, although that sounds a bit cruel to say, because I also seem to slice, burn, or jam my hands or fingers on a regular basis. Do we just not pay attention?

Alan W. Davidson said...

Hi Patricia...welcome! Perhaps we are injured so much because our minds are preoccupied with fantastic and amazing stories? Or not. It still doesn't explain why it happened so when I was a kid. Perhaps it was all of the sugary cereal?

kathryn said...

Oh, God....I'm wiping the tears from my eyes on this one. Poor, poor child-Alan...and adolescent-Alan....and Alan-in-his-20's.

Gee. So, you're not very coordinated with your hands but you've somehow managed to be a draftsman AND a writer. How did you get over your fear of the pencil?

I had this weird flashback-moment when you mentioned catching the cat...till I realized it was YOUR memory in the first place. I remember that post! Yikes.

bla said...

I stapled my leg once, trying to prove to someone that if you can't see staples through the tiny hole, that means that the stapler was empty. Reality proved me wrong.