Age 7: My uncle owned a large farm and had a brush trimmer attached to his farm tractor (a long flat poll with lots of spikes on it; they "scissor" back and forth to cut the tall brush). It was in the upright position (but tilted back wit the spikes pointing slightly upwards) to prevent it from being stepped on and broke. I decided to climb up it like a latter (climbing on the spikes, which stuck out about 8" each). I slipped and fell, landing on the spikes in such a way that caused one spike to pierce my scrotum, cut out the back, then re-penetrate going in through my crotch and cut all the way to the femur on my right leg. I was left there, dangling, until my screams were heard by my brother, who then ran into my unlce's house screaming that I had my wiener cut off on the tractor.
Worst part, having my mother (who was a med student) there during the surgery.
Age 7: Same year, just later, I was attacked by two German shepherds that tore off my right ear, tore my cheek away from the jaw and cheek bone, ripped a large chunk of flesh from my legg and left me bleeding until my brother and father arrived to save me. Took several reconstructive operations to fix my right ear and right cheek.
Age 11: I was involved in a serious car accident that fractured two vertebrae, herniated a back muscle, broke my foot and left me in the hospital for quite a time. Worst part: the catheter I was given in the ER. That hurt worse than anything else.
~String
It's like adding insult to injury. I find it gets worse in the winter.
