OOOooouuuccchhhh!!!!

[happyturkeyman]

Oof, cyfiawnder. I've had novocaine in the forehead, and the thought of it in the fingertip made me feel nauseous.

Yuck, no fun.

[Cyfiawnder]

Oof, cyfiawnder. I've had novocaine in the forehead, and the thought of it in the fingertip made me feel nauseous.

Yuck, no fun.

I too have had the pleasure of novocaine in my frehead... Of course at the time I had a cuncussion so I don't remember feeling much of anything....

[Daniel_Bingamon]

I know this may sound suprising but on bandsaw and other cutting devices, it is better to have an extremely sharp blade instead of dull one.

It's usually the dull blades that cause the most harm since they more easily grab a piece of material out your hands.

[happyturkeyman]

On the subject of sharp versus dull cuts, my forehead happened to hit an inanimate object kind of sideways-like at high speed, causing part of the skin to cling and rip open a gash with friction/momentum.

I am sure the doctor that stitched me up wouldve perferred a pizza cutter-type gash.

Edit: I was conscious. Stupid, stupid flesh wound.

[IDAwHOa]

A friend at church shot himself with a nail gun a couple of weeks ago. He shot a nail through his left index and middle finger while they were in mid air. He then drove himself to the hospital while they were thus nailed together. He is so lucky that he missed all the bones.

[sturob]

Cyf: heal fast.

Nkay, so this one time (as long as we're sharing our own personal Darwin Awards) I bought this nice new gravel for a fish tank, and I spilled a little (like a tablespoon) onto the carpet (berber). I thought, hey, what the heck, I'll just rake it with my hand onto a piece of paper, and then put the gravel in the tank.

Nkay, so it turns out that little triangular/square/rhomboidal/parallelographic shapes of gravel are (a) very sharp and (b) stick into berber carpet. Oh, and when they catch in the carpet, they stick out like little blades. Kinda like a cheese grater? Sorta?

Oh, and it's worse if you totally skip the part where you anticipate anything going wrong, and you just rake your hand over said gravel-cum-carpet cheese grater. You know, go at it WHOLE HOG. Like when you pick up a glass you think is full, but it's empty, and you end up looking amazingly coordinated as you lift the glass waaaaaay up higher than you intended to (and by glass, I mean something opaque).

Oh, yes, and let's not forget how sensitive the pads of your fingers are. You know, the parts that the blind use to READ. Yes, those pads. Exquisitely sensitive.

I have very interesting fingerprints now on that hand. And if I ever go blind, I'll be half-illiterate or just a REALLY slow reader.

Stuart

[izzarina]

I have very interesting fingerprints now on that hand. And if I ever go blind, I'll be half-illiterate or just a REALLY slow reader.

Stuart

Get better soon Cyf....that way this rather morbid thread can die the death.

Heather (who is a bit squimish when it comes to these topics...)

[Darwin]

A friend at church shot himself with a nail gun a couple of weeks ago. He shot a nail through his left index and middle finger while they were in mid air. He then drove himself to the hospital while they were thus nailed together. He is so lucky that he missed all the bones.

Back in the early '60s, there was this whole quick draw fad, spurred on by Hugh O'Brian, who played Wyatt Earp on TV, and who was apparently pretty good at it. There were even quickdraw artists who appeared at fairs and carnivals with fake pistols, hooked up to electronic scoring gadgets, and took on all comers.

So one of my good friends showed up for our sophomore year of college with his right leg all bandaged up. He'd been practicing with a loaded revolver, and shot himself in the leg. When he told the story, I could hardly breathe for laughing.

He was lucky on two counts. First, it was just a .22. Second, it missed the bone in his lower leg. I think the slug actually went between the bones somehow, if that's possible. A .45 and/or a bone hit would have produced an entirely different result.

One of my Jr. High School science teachers was missing the tip of his right index finger. He was used to shooting a pistol with his index finger laying alongside the barrel, using his middle finger for the trigger. His father bought him a tiny .25 automatic, and the first time he fired it, he discovered that the end of his index finger had curled around the muzzle.

All this is pretty funny stuff, as the injuries weren't all that severe. What's less funny is that my cousin's teenage daughter was killed in a shooting accident that involved a bunch of kids fooling around with a shotgun in an apartment. (Before she died, she confirmed to the medics that it had been an accident.)

[Cyfiawnder]

Well I got tired of the stitches... So i just completed pulling them out.. I think a few were in a little too long because the didn't want to come out... They were slated to come ou tlater today anyway so I just did the doctor a favor and saved him some time... I'll just show up and have him look at my fingers, then sign the paperwork... So we can all get on with out lives and I can start building/playing whistles and or flutes once more...

[mcbob]

I worked in an aluminum smelter when I was young, and one of my friends had the relatively safe job of driving the crucibles of molten metal to the casting department. He sat in air conditioned comfort , while the rest of us slaved in the depths of Mordor.
I dropped by the bar one evening after work, and there sat Sheldon, with his hand bandaged up. I inquired about his injury. Apparently, there was a hole in the cab roof of his machine, and for some time he wondered what was up there. Curiousity got the better of him that day, so he stuck his finger in to see what was there.
It was then he discovered the air conditioning fan.

[Stine]

With every post, this topic makes me wince. Hope y'all are healing nicely.

[Cyfiawnder]

that was the whole point

[dwinterfield]

I don't have a lathe but have done a fair amount of wood carving - mostly decoys. When carving heads, I hold them is my left hand and carve with my right. And that's how I learned about novacaine needles in the hand. Now I use (unless I'm foolish and forget or get lazy) a kevlar glove. Wood carving stores carry them. They're cheap and will slow down any blade. I don't know if they'd be comfortable working a lathe. BTW the easiest way to hold a decoy body when using a draw knife is between your knees. I've never seen anyone injured doing that, but some folks consider it idiotic.

As Norm says - we should always start with shop safety.

[anniemcu]

Owwwwy Doggies!

I hope you are faring better this week!!!!

Why is it that something that seems so flipping obviously idiotic to us in hindsight seems like such a good idea at the time??

May you still be able to fidgit your digits after all is said and done...

and next time you are so tempted... ask your friends... surely one of us would have been bold enough to tell ya *NO!!!*

Anyway.. just so you don't feel too awful... here's a little goodie passed on to me about the time you were testing your theory of razor blades and chisels...

A candidate for the Darwin Awards... WARNING -slightly graphic

(Oh... this is sooo... plausible... ooooohch! ...
this is Dale's and my 22nd anniversary year... I've advised him not to do this for me... LOL)

Dear Friends,

My wife Toni is fond of saying that my last words on this earth will be
something akin to, "hey y'all, hold my beer and watch this!" Well, I
have outdone myself once again. No doubt you will see this true story
chronicled in a LifeTime movie in the near future. Here goes.

Last weekend I spied something at Larry's Pistol and Pawn that tickled
my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled). I bought something really cool for Toni.

The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my sweet girl.

What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip.

For those of you who are not familiar with this product, it is a less-than-lethal stun gun with two metal prongs designed to incapacitate an assailant with a shock of high-voltage, low amperage electricity while you flee to safety.

The effects are supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, but allowing you adequate time to retreat to safety.

You simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb. Tattooed assailant, push the button, and i! t will render him a slobbering, goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching, whimpering, pencil-neck geek.

If you've never seen one of these things in action, then you're truly missing out--way too cool!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was so disappointed. Upon reading the directions (we don't need no stinkin' directions), I found much to my chagrin that this particular model would not create an arch between the prongs. How disappointing! I do love fire for effect.

I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs that I was so looking forward to. I did so. Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue arch of electricity, and a loud pop!!!Yipeeeeee . . I'm easily amused, just for your information, but I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, etc., etc. There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not Gracie) and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target.

I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie for a fraction of a second and thought better of it. She is such a sweet kitty, after all. But, if I was going to give this thing to Toni to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time...

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, Tazer in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.

All the while I'm looking at this little device (measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference, pretty cute really, and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, "no friggin' way!" --trust me, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best. Those of you who know me well have got a pretty good idea of what followed. I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it buddy," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad (sound, rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn't you agree?). I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the hell of it. (Note: You know, a bad decision is like hindsight--always twenty-twenty. It is so obvious that it was a bad decision after the fact, even though it seemed so right at the time. Don't ya hate that?)

I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY **************! DAaaaauuuuuuMN!!! I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again.> I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the foetal position, nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position. Gracie was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "do it again, do it again!" (Note: If you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Tazer, one note of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You're not going to let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. Then, if you're lucky, you won't dislodge one of the prongs 1/4" deep in your thigh like yours truly.) SON-OF-A-***** that hurt! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both titties were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. give or take an ounce or two, I'm pretty sure.

By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran away. I'm offering a reward. They're round, rather large, kinda hairy, and handsome if I must say so myself. Miss 'em . . . sure would like to get 'em back.

--

There now... isn't it a whole lot funnier when it's someone else?

[happyturkeyman]

In the spirit of finger ouchies, my display pic is now of the time I had my thumbnail pried up by a fan.