'Tis but a flesh wound
Katherine Gottli
Issue date: 2/2/10 Section: Features
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A scar will follow you for the rest of your life - a physical imprint on your body reminding you where you have been. Scars remind us of our reckless youth, our intoxicated stumbles, our false sense of security and a multitude of scenarios in between. The botanist definition of a scar describes a mark indicating a former point of attachment, as where a leaf has fallen from a stem. Human scars prove that we are attached to our past - our experiences dictate who we are today. Most importantly, scars remind us that we are not invicible, and no matter how hard we try to be the likelihood of injury, emotional or physical, is always present.
Amanda
When I was three almost all family events were held at my grandparents house and - if it was nice enough - in their backyard. Unfortunately for my head, their backyard was riddled with lawn ornaments, most of them larger and heavier than me. One day I was running around back there (probably playing tag with an imaginary friend) when the inevitable happened: I was running forward yet dumbly looking behind me and wound up on the ground with a gash in the right side of my head. After a blood-filled drive to the ER, five stitches and two weeks of recovery every single stitch fell out and the cut ended up healing open.
Nathan
When I was still a young man, I was abducted by a group of highly skilled fighters that went by the name of Jedi. This group took me in as a protégé of sorts, where I would learn to defend human kind against all kinds of dark forces.
As I grew and matured into a courageous Jedi I began to take on more and more responsibility. I was on the planet of Tatooine completing my usual patrol, when I was savagely attacked by a large figure in all black. I quickly grasped for my weapon as I was struck in the neck by the 'Dark Lord's' light-saber in the early stages of the ensuing battle. With my head near decapitation, I was able to suppress the 'Dark Lord' and save the universe from great peril. I quickly recovered from my injury and was held with high esteem, and the universe was once again in perfect harmony.
In reality, the light-saber was an industrial metal grinder, and the 'Dark Lord' was the lack of attention I gave towards the monotonous drudgery of a summer job in a factory.
Emi
A recent addition to my collection, this lovely scar was acquired through a terrible fall at work. It was a busy weekend evening, and everybody needed something from me. As I rushed around a corner in the kitchen with a plate in each hand, I slipped, and fell forward. In the aftermath, I found bruising and redness on my head, my left leg and arm; I'm still not entirely sure how I could have fallen to hit every part that got hurt. Ten minutes after the fall, I realized that my left arm felt strange. Then, I noticed that my sleeve was torn and decorated with blood. Sure enough, I had gashed my arm and, again, I'm not entirely sure how. This, of course, is the long version of the story. I usually just tell people that I got it in a knife fight.
Melissa
Now I could lie and say I had some crazy drug past with a lot of shooting up, but these scars are actually from donating blood. I began about two summers ago, but it has been a rocky road ever since. I am quite small in size, so I usually get rejected when I try to give because of low iron. Although they always say "deferred" because rejected sounds too harsh I guess. Anyways, donating is important to me, as I am 0- which means I can donate to anyone with any blood type. Because of this, I have started taking iron pills, and passed my iron test with flying colours last Tuesday when I donated. Donating is a great thing to do, as each donation actually can help three different people. Because of my donating, I am actually looking into doing more; I am looking into becoming a live kidney donor.
Gillian
One day when I was younger, I noticed that I had a lump on my arm this size of a quarter. It was sore and a couple of weeks went by and it got worse. I was at my doctor's and mentioned to him that I had this lump on my arm - he took a look at it and decided that it needed to be lanced. I remember him draining the "cyst", dressing it, and that was that.
Years later I was working at a day-camp and happened to mention to my Mom that one of our campers had come that day covered in spider bites. My Mom asked me if I remembered what had happened to me. I didn't know what she was talking about. She explained that when they were "draining" what I had remembered as a cyst on my arm they had in fact taken out an egg sack. Apparently I had been bitten and a spider that laid eggs in my arm - gross. I grew up in Southwestern Ontario, and since I've come to Brock I've met other people this has happened to.
Chris
When I first got this scar, no one believed my story. You don't have to either, but it really happened. I swear. Two summers ago, two friends and I were bored and drinking homemade liquor. We decided to attempt to walk out to the Thorold water pipes, so we were walking on the trails by the bridge on Glendale by the Donut Diner and we started to hear a bunch of barking animals coming towards us, getting louder by the second. So, instinctively, we started running for our lives, and as we were running I hit a divot in the dirt, and fell, scratching up my arm and both my knees pretty bad. While I was on the ground, I could hear them passing by us on the sides, barking, circling around us, then, within seconds both my friends had doubled back, exclaiming "no one gets left behind!' and lifted me up to my feet. We kept running until we were out of the woods, finished the moonshine, and then went home all bloody and exhausted. This scar will always be a reminder of the night I got attacked by coyotes.
Beth
I was in Port Dover playing football with my boyfriend and his brother. We weren't playing with a regular football but one of those foamy Nerf ones -this only makes the story more ridiculous. Every time that someone dropped the ball into the water it would get heavier and heavier due to the large amounts of water it was sucking up. He passed the ball to me and I sort of half caught it, but my hand went under the water with the ball because it was so heavy. When I pulled my hand up, not only did it hurt like hell but the pinkie finger was not where it was supposed to be. All I could say was, "I think I broke my hand". It started swelling, but I could still move it so we came to the conclusion that it must not be broken and just dislocated. I took a Tylenol and spent the rest of the day at the beach. Later on our way back to St.Catharines we decided that we should just go to the emergency room, since it was late and the wait might not be that bad. We did the whole ER thing , I got x-rays, we waited a shit load of time . When the doctor came back he told me that my finger was dislocated but I had in fact spiral fractured it and needed to have surgery to fix it. So one metal plate and five screws later I now have a pretty bad ass scar on my left hand. End of story. Best part is ... I was working at a golf camp at the time and since I broke my hand I couldn't golf for the rest of the summer. I got really good at one handed putting though.
Erik
Like many of the scars someone with siblings has, mine is a result of a major scuffle between my younger brother and I. In an argument that could have started for about a million reasons, a fight ensued. Being about 15, and my brother 13, it was one of those "chase the other one down until you're close enough to throw a punch - and then it's all over" fights. Well, I got close, but my brother was nimble at the time. So my arrant fist met an unfortunately placed side table of some sort, resulting in a decent "dent" in my index finger. After the adrenaline wore off, and the pain set in, I wrapped it up and decided it might be better to work on more verbal assaults from then on.
Katherine
Trying to be a hero when I was 12-years-old, I decided that it would be a really cool idea to run up the down escalator at Universal Studios in Florida. At the peak of my incoordination, I inevitably fell and the edge of the step caught my knee and gauged about a loonie size piece of skin out of it. On my humbling trip up the correct direction of the escalator, my Dad noticed my injury, and his face was all I needed to know that I was probably going to be going to the hospital. $900 and about 10 stiches later, my parents always buy travel insurance and remind me every time we go somewhere which direction of escalator I should be taking.
Jen
In first year I was walking to my French midterm in October in the pouring rain in flip flops. Upon entering East Academic I took a spill, shin bone moving left and my foot moving right, my knee completely out of place. I quickly gathered myself and popped it all back into place and hobbled into my midterm. Afterwards I had to call campus security to pick me up and then was sent in a taxi to prompt care. I spent six weeks on crutches. After my six weeks was up I spent about a year and a half with it slipping out of place once in a while, resulting in a doctors visit for some anti-inflammatories and being told to wear my metal re-inforced patella support brace. I decided to get an x-ray done to see what my damage was. I was told the corrective surgery wait list for me would be 12-to-18 months minimum, less than three months later I recieved a phone call that I would be having emergency surgery in six days. The reason, when my knee slips out the only thing holding my shin from protruding out of my skin was my muscles and skin itself. With a torn MCL, and a ACL that fused to the PCL I had four surgeries in one to correct it. I now have two screws, one with a washer in my shin bone, the surgery was done in August you may have seen me hobbling around on my crutches through September and some of October during my recovery. I will be able to start running again at my six-months mark on Feb. 4th.
Kristina
Growing up across from a ravine is pretty neat when you think of all the games that you can play in a forest. Being older and realizing that playing 'Pirates' on a steep slope leading into a pond is probably not a good idea. One sunny afternoon while chasing a friend through the forest, I tripped over a log and ripped my knee open. It's not really a fascinating story, but for a while there, the scar would change colours depending on the weather.
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