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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Maxperson" data-source="post: 9428713" data-attributes="member: 23751">I only have two scars and neither one is from anything as impressive as that.  The first is on the top knuckle of my left pointer finger.  I was at a summer camp when I was 10 or 11 and they took us out on a hiking/camping excursion.  They drove us miles and miles to a destination and then we used a compass to hike for several hours in a specific direction.  When we got to the bottom of a large hill we made camp.  Another boy and myself were tasked with digging a latrine and given those spades with the head that can be angled and then locked in at that angle.  I kept mine as a shovel and the other kid bent his so that he could swing down like a pick and loosen the dirt.  Everything was going well until he swung down to loosen at the same time as I went in to dig out some loose dirt.  The point of his spade hit my knuckle and cut me right good. One of the camp counselors quickly took me over the hill where a van was parked at a road and drove me about 1 minute to the main summer camp ground where I had my finger stitched.  Then when we were returning he asked me not to reveal to the other kids where they had actually hiked us to so that they would continue to think that we were all in the middle of nowhere.The second instance was when I was making shrinky dinks and decided to make a necklace for my step-mother buy putting a hole in the top of it with a pair of scissors.  I pushed really hard to make that hole and when the plastic gave way, the scissors went further than expected and sliced my finger open on the under side of my finger at the knuckle crease.  I shook my hand like you do when something stings and so many drops of blood on my walls and ceiling that it looked like it was polka dotted red.That was the time that I decided that I should go downstairs and show my parents what happened. My step-mother turned the kitchen faucet on full blast and put my finger under it to wash off the blood. When she did that the water below my finger turned red and stayed that way.  She looked at that for a moment and then told my father he needed to take me to the ER.  At the ER they cauterized the vein/artery(can't remember which one I severed) and stopped the bleeding. When they did that I could see the bone in my finger and I remember being surprised that it wasn't pure white and had portions that were a dark tan color.  Oddly enough it was the exact same finger as the one I injured at summer camp. Apparently my left pointer finger just has some really bad luck, much to the relief of the rest of my digits.</blockquote>

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