That cost me around ten stitches.
About a year later I tripped again, this time on a flat concrete floor. I fell just like I had before, my feet as the fulcrum and my forehead slap against the floor. I forget what I was running after then, but the impact split my stitches open.
That cost me around twelve stitches.
At four years old I had just finished watching Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and decided to recreate the scene where Kevin rigs up a see-saw to trap the burglars who are after him. So I got a big heavy rock, put a plank on it, put another rock (this one as big as my head) on one side and jumped on the other.
When the rock swung up and hit my head I specifically remember it not hurting. I remember reaching up to feel what had happened and crumbling away something that felt like crusted dirt — I guessed it was fragments of rock, but it did not seem to be pulverised bone. After I’d finished crumbling away at my poor forehead I began to bleed profusely, like something out of a bad Filipino horror movie. When my mom saw this she scooped me up and started pinching me and calling me stupid, and why did I do such a silly thing? She brought me to the regional clinic in a tricycle, where the doctor sewed my forehead up (without anasthesia I think, though again I don’t remember it hurting).
That cost me around nine stitches, and now we all know how Desi got thirty-odd stitches in the same spot on his head. The scar is quite gone now, but you can still feel a bit of a bump where the doctor used nonabsorbable suture and we didn’t take it out.A new piece of software for your perusal: The Verbosifier is tagboard/shoutbox software with strong anti-spam measures and lots of coolness. Written in about four hours.