spumoni_fettuccini's Journal: Lessons learned the hard way. lightly icky

Did you read the disclaimer?

Be careful when playing horsey on a step ladder. Around the age of three I loved my Saturday morning shows, the grand finale being The Lone Ranger. At the end of my morning ritual I wandered off to find my Mom. This particular day my Mom and Grandpa were wallpapering the master bedroom and were just about in the middle of the project. I probably pestered them for a little while before they told me to find something to do. What I came up with was playing Lone Ranger...hmmm I need a horse. Hey, there's a ladder lying on the floor! That would make excellent Silver! As I went to sit down on my proud steed, I managed to stick my thumb of my right hand in the hinge of the ladder. In the act of sitting down it closed the hinge [think scissors] and I started yowling! Maternal instinct kicked in with my Mom and she raced over to see what was wrong. Just as she was about to pick me up my Grandfather bowled her over, my thumb still being stuck in the hinge, leaned down and open the ladder. The first thing he did was to grab my hand, hold it up past my head and begin to wrap it up in his handkerchief. Man, I was feeling better! Next thing I know we were off for a car ride, wheeee. On the way to the [little did I know at the time] hospital I happened to look down and notice my Grandpa's boots were rather bloody [I was sitting in his lap]. When I went to tell him he must be hurt his grip slipped and my hand plopped down on top of my legs. I think it took a second or two to realize what I was looking at and the yowling started all over again! We finally arrived at the ER and I was taken in to get stitches, see what happened was the hinge had sliced open my thumb along the side, caused enough pressure to burst through the pad of my thumb and had crushed the nail. When I got stitched up I received no form of anesthetic [maybe I was too young?] and was screaming bloody murder according to my Mom. The doctor and nurses kept telling her I was just being a baby and it wasn't hurting me, wanna trade places Doc? I know this is really distorted, but I remember the doctor having an orange afro [white guy], lab coat and looked like the proverbial mad scientist complete with the hang wringing and mwuhahah laughter. To this day [about 30 years later] I have a scar [about an inch and a half] on the side from the slice, a scar [round and the size of a pea] on the pad from the burst and a double thumb nail [it's kinda like two nails growing on top of each other with a hollow space part way down]. That was the last time I ever played horsey on a ladder.