[Editor's Note: If you are a bit, squeamish, brace yourself.]
Growing up, we had family friends, the Jones. They lived on the other side of the town. Not "the other side of town". "The other side of THE town". We lived about 2.5 miles southwest of town. They lived about the same distance northeast of town. They had 3 kids that lined up in ages & genders with us, and our dad's went to high school together. That said, we didn't really hang as families a whole lot.
One time, we were over there, I'm guessing I was somewhere around 6th or 7th grade, this happened.
I was walking through the living room, on their nice, brown shag carpeting when I sudden felt a stabbing pain; like a needle had had just lanced the little toe on my right foot.
That was because the eldest daughter had been doing some sewing in the living room earlier, and must have lost a straight pin.
FOUND IT!
And, to be helpful, the head must have caught in the shag carpet because it snapped off.
Just so we are all clear, there is now a straight pin, broken off in my little toe. Needless to say, I screamed. A lot.
They laid me down on the couch, and the dad, Jim, found a pair of pliers for my dad to use to try to pull it out. I thought I was in pain before, but the muscles in my little toe must have been enjoying the pain, because they clamped around that needle and wouldn't let got. I fully expected to see my little toe come off as my father tugged and pulled and twisted and yanked on the pin to no avail.
And to this day, it's still in there…
Nah, they rushed me up to the hospital ER (my only trip that I recall), and the vet doctor on call said that there were two options to relax the muscles so that the pin could be extracted, spray or a shot. I begged for the spray, considering that there was already one too many needles in my big toe as was, and didn't really need to have any more in there. The doctor said that the spray rarely worked, so he was going to go with the shot, anyway. (Then why give me the option, you fargin bastage!)
The doctor then pulled out a 37" long hypodermic needle that they must use to inject things into the heart of bull elephants or something. "Hold still, " he says. RIIIIGHT! It took 3 people to hold me down. Right up to the point that that harpoon was an inch from my toe.
I froze. Petrified.
Bang-boom-zip - Shot goes in. Muscles relax. Pin pulls out easy-as-you-please.
Should have had the stupid thing mounted.
And guess what happened the VERY NEXT TIME I WAS OVER THERE…
5 comments:
I suppose at least now you're a lot more sympathetic to the plight of bull elephants?
So, what you're saying is that you were LITERALLY on pins and needles?
And, hey, did I ever tell you the same thing happened to me? Yep. Only the carpet was orange; it happened in my own house (yes, we had orange carpet downstairs and red carpet upstairs ~ classy!!); the pin broke off in my heel; and I had been the one sewing (whoopsie!) so there was NO WAY I told my parents.... instead I had my sister get me a jar of vaseline and I smothered the damn thing and ripped it out myself with a pair of scissors.... and then proceeded to bleed all over the Clue board game, much to my sister's horror.
Owie.
I think the moral of the story is that Clue is much more sinister to play when it's splattered with your own blood.
I got to the part where the needle got lodged in your toe and stopped. I figured it wasn't going anywhere good. Come on dude, it's Monday morning!
I hate it when doctors give you options, then say, "But (the worst option) is the only thing that works." Why build up my hope, dude!
This reminds me of the time 2 brothers wrestled on the family room floor. Suddenly, the older one screams in agony. The other one (idiot bro) takes a small pocket knife, that had clicked open in the tussle, out of his pocket and says, "I forgot I had this."
D'oh!
You have reminded me of a childhood accident that I had suppressed until now. I must blog about it!
And bonus points for the Johnny Dangerously reference!
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