CASE # 1313

Now i don't know if you can notice this one, but it's got heart. First i slid down a grass hill and an iron spike slashed my knee down to my calf, then, me and the brohammer jumped off a bridge onto a moving train and my knee hit a screw sticking out and knocked the scar clean off without hardly any blood at all. This knee is kind of numb now, it's weird.

CASE # 1312

ear infection, doctor stuff, had to get it cutoff...i don't know.

CASE # 1311

A fan sheild hit my forehead, i had sex with it's sister and i think i might have owed it money.

CASE # 1310

STEAK KNIVES GONE WILD!

CASE # 1309

I jumped into a broken windshield. (My brother had already jumped into 3 times.) It was like a ride that you find at some underground amusement park in the junkyard.

CASE # 1308

Simply being a 13 year old boy with things on my mind.

CASE # 1307

Got this at a GWAR concert.

CASE # 1306

The scar is very faded now, barely even noticeable really, but it's still there even after 13 years. I was about three or four when I got it, and it was Easter morning. I had done something to anger my older brother, who was 7 or 8 at the time; I probably stolen some candy out of his Easter basket or something stupid like that, and he was chasing me around the house. I bashed my face against the convex corner where two walls met and I had a gash on my forehead and a broken orbital. And while I had to go to the emergency room to get stitches on the middle of my forehead, my brother sat on our neighbour's porch and ate ice cream. I've never let him live it down, either.

CASE # 1305

Love this idea!

When I was 18, I was out for a very drunken night with friends. Once it got very late, I realized I was going to be late for curfew. My friends weren't ready to leave yet, so I stole one friend's car and drunkenly tried to drive it home. While goofing around, I managed to flip it over and throw myself and a friend through the windshield. Needless to say, I got a DUI, a trip to the hospital, and this awesome scar on my shoulder.

-Heather

NOTE: It's not too prominent in the attached photo, but with the right light, it's a healthy 3 inch scar.

CASE # 1304

CASE # 1303

We had just finished fixing a pipe that was broken about two feet deep in the ground. The pipe was fixed and we were just finishing filling the dirt back in to the hole where the pipe was. It was around 9 or 10 AM. I hear a loud tire squealing noise and a crash almost simultaneously, so I look up and there is a dark green volkswagon about 4 feet from me and moving at a high rate of speed.

BAM!!!!!

I go flying 48 feet through the air and land in the field near where I was working. I come to and there is a small crowd of people standing around me and asking me questions.

"What's your name?"
"Who is the president?"
"Do you know where you are"
and so on but you get the idea, I had no idea why they were asking me all these questions but I was answering the best I could.

"Tim"
"George Bush and I'm sure this is somehow his fault"
"I'm in Yorktown on route 17"

By this time I'm pissed off coz I just want to drink my coffee and smoke a cigarette coz it's got to be around break time. I ask the person who is standing on my leg to please kindly get the fuck off my leg so I can get my coffee. They told me to stay put and help would be there shortly. I pass out.

Wake up in the hospital ER which seemed so surreal at the time. Nurses were asking me tons of questions which I dont remember except them asking me to rate the pain on a scale of one to ten. to which I reply, "Fucking fifteen, give me some drugs!!!"

I pass out again and wake up in a hospital bed with my family and friends around. This is when I am told what happened. Some 78 year old lady made an illegal U turn at a red light and hit the side of the volkswagon which then careened right in to where I was working and hit me right in the middle of my leg. Snapped both bones in my lower leg right in half. The guy I was working with later told me that my heel was touching the back of my knee. Wish I had pictures of that.

CASE # 1302

CASE # 1301

I was born with an autoimmune disorder, requiring the removal of my spleen, tonsils and adnoids. I have a large scar running just under my ribcage, from side to side, and another smaller one on my ankle, where the docs took a bone marrow sample (in 1967 when I was born) to ensure it had not progressed to the bones.

That's the major scar, I have a few minor ones from motorcycles, an illness, parrots and reptiles but those are not as interesting perhaps to you.

CASE # 1300

CASE # 1299

CASE # 1298

CASE # 1297

CASE # 1296

CASE # 1294

I have a circluar scar on my right wrist from when I was younger, and a door was slammed in my face, my hand went through a plate glass window, and took out a perfect circle of skin on my wrist. I spend a lot of time explaining to people that I was never a suicidal person, it's just unfortunate injury placement.

CASE # 1295

For my eighth Christmas, I was given a ten-speed "big girl" bike. My best friend and I decided that our bikes were invincible, and the next day we were riding through neighbors' back yards and eventually found ourselves in my backyard, with the bright idea to ride along the very edge of my swimming pool. She was behind me but her front tire was right alongside my back tire. She wobbled, which knocked my bike and me into the pool. I remember opening my eyes under water and looking up seeing my bike right above me, and I frantically kicked off the floor of the pool to get to the surface. During my rapid ascension, the kickstand of my bike sliced my upper thigh. I went to the hospital but refused stitches, instead getting the most expensive band-aid application of my life. At the time, and at my small size, the scar seemed to take up so much of the length of my thigh. My brothers called it "the worm" and it took me a long time to wear a bathing suit without longer shorts over it to hide the scar. My parents promised that when I turned sixteen, they’d pay for plastic surgery to buff it down or somehow make it smaller. That idea never really appealed to me, and by my sixteenth birthday I hadn’t even remembered that promise anyhow. Now I’m twenty-five and the scar is about 3 or 4 inches long on my much longer adult leg, and I hardly take it into consideration.

CASE # 1293

I have two big scars from a neck surgery from june of 2005. I also have a huge scar on my left thigh from a fight that took place 20 years ago in Oregonhill. I was cut by a box knife.

CASE # 1292

In August of 1996, I was 28 yrs old. I had noticed a large mole on my right calf, but thought it had always been there. Family and friends finally convinced me to have it looked at. My general doc told me it was nothing. I asked for a referral to a dermaltologist. It took me 2+ weeks to get an appt. I went, they did a biopsy, and 2 days later was being told I had to have major surgery immediately. It was a Clarks Level Stage 2/3 Melonoma. This kills people. I had surgery, as this was the only way to ensure getting all the cells, due to the depth and width of the mole. I have no idea how long it had been there.
I have scar tissue on my left thigh from the skin grafts, and a scar from having my right lymph node removed. It took me almost a year to recover physically. Emotionally, much longer. Dealing with insurance companies was a nightmare. My fun, carefree life at 28 had come to a complete halt, and it took me awhile to realize how lucky I was to even be alive. Today I am cancer free, 11 years this very month. As silly as it sounds, I am not self conscious any longer to wear a skirt.
In fact I wear them all the time! For a few years after the surgery I was afraid to, but now I want people to ask me what happened. This is the second most common cancer that kills women today, and becoming more prevelant every day.

CASE # 1291

My scar is from a ruptured appendix that was misdiagnosed as an ovarian tumor, "not life threatening".Because of that I waited 2 weeks to have the surgery to remove the tumor. The surgeon planned to make a small horizontal incision to remove it, but that is not what I woke up with. When the doctor opened me up he found intestines covered with what looked like "super glue". I had several feet of small intestine removed and 10 inches of colon. The doc said he had a choice to cut out my belly button, or to save it. I am glad he chose to save it!

CASE # 1290

Karl,

I know I told you the story of riding my bike in the woods in the dark and broke my ankle. Then my self rescue; splinting and hobbling out in the dark. Hell that was easy part. The 2 months on crutches was the hard part.

Good luck
Greg

CASE # 1289

I don't have pictures of my scars, but I've got a few visible ones. One is on my right foot. A co-volunteer and I were loading up my car a few years back to get ready for the weekly dog adoption stand, I was loading a metal sign when I dropped it on my foot.

During my teen angst days, a friend and I decided it would be cool to carve into our skin with razor blades. We may have been tough as nails, but a little naive and confused. I don't remember any of her engravings, but I was left with an anarchy symbol next to a peace sign on my left forearm. No joke.

I've got a few others, but they aren't as cute.

CASE # 1288

The scar shown is from my broken front tooth (Bit through from the inside out! Ew!) An excerpt from an email I sent a friend a week after the accident: It happened on the Mayo Bridge. I was biking with Aaron. As you may know (maybe not) part of the bridge consists of metal plates all the way across, covering some kind of abyss through which the flood wall sometimes runs. Well, on this fateful night, two of the metal plates were about six inches apart, and I looked down just in time to see that I was totally fucked: my front tire went in. I went over the handlebars, smashed my face into Hull Street, and blacked out for just a second. I woke up quickly, frantic, and ran to the curb, where I sat and began crying like the newborn I felt I was. "I DON'T HAVE ANY FUCKING TEETH," I yelled between sobs, repeating myself and stuffing my hands into my mouth, trying to locate and smother the monumental pain that couldn't possibly fit in there. Aaron couldn't see where I was bleeding from because I was hiding it; he gave me his bandanna which I then stuffed in my mouth. An ambulance came. The story goes on.