I've never had really serious injuries. I've come close to death a couple of times, but from illness, not injury.
I've broken a bone only once, this past summer, actually. I stubbed my toe on a freeweight left in the middle of the floor in a dark room (my mother felt so guilty).
I've been in two bicycle accidents: the first, when I was seven, was pretty severe. The chain broke on my Strawberry Shortcake bicycle as I was going down a steep hill. I toppled over and sped down the hill on my side. It was summer so I had on only little shorts and a bikini top, and I got road rash down my leg, side, and arm. On top of that, the handlebar of my bike impaled me in the stomach. It wasn't terribly deep, but it was still rather gruesome. Fortunately, an old couple were driving down the hill and saw me fall, the took me home.
The other biking accident was here in NYC. An idiot woman opened her cab door into traffic without looking, even though on the inside of every NYC taxi there is a big sticker that reads: WATCH FOR CYCLISTS. Stupid woman. The door got me right in the hand, pinching my fingers. I was wearing cycling gloves so I didn't realize I was hurt; I was put off balance but didn't fall, scowled at the woman, and road off. About ten minutes later I was riding along wondering why my hand felt so wet. I stopped and pulled off my glove and found it full of blood; while the gloves prevented and scraping or gouging, the pinch basically caused a finger to burst, leaving a gash about half the length of my ring finger.
When I was two I was attacked by a dog at a public park, which got me by the throat and dragged me off the slide. I've been told that the bone where it bit me in my chin was exposed, but I don't really remember, and have only a small scar and a bunch of photos of me with a bandage tied around my head to show for it.
I've broken a bone only once, this past summer, actually. I stubbed my toe on a freeweight left in the middle of the floor in a dark room (my mother felt so guilty).
I've been in two bicycle accidents: the first, when I was seven, was pretty severe. The chain broke on my Strawberry Shortcake bicycle as I was going down a steep hill. I toppled over and sped down the hill on my side. It was summer so I had on only little shorts and a bikini top, and I got road rash down my leg, side, and arm. On top of that, the handlebar of my bike impaled me in the stomach. It wasn't terribly deep, but it was still rather gruesome. Fortunately, an old couple were driving down the hill and saw me fall, the took me home.
The other biking accident was here in NYC. An idiot woman opened her cab door into traffic without looking, even though on the inside of every NYC taxi there is a big sticker that reads: WATCH FOR CYCLISTS. Stupid woman. The door got me right in the hand, pinching my fingers. I was wearing cycling gloves so I didn't realize I was hurt; I was put off balance but didn't fall, scowled at the woman, and road off. About ten minutes later I was riding along wondering why my hand felt so wet. I stopped and pulled off my glove and found it full of blood; while the gloves prevented and scraping or gouging, the pinch basically caused a finger to burst, leaving a gash about half the length of my ring finger.
When I was two I was attacked by a dog at a public park, which got me by the throat and dragged me off the slide. I've been told that the bone where it bit me in my chin was exposed, but I don't really remember, and have only a small scar and a bunch of photos of me with a bandage tied around my head to show for it.