Hmmm... where to start? Once we did this when my friend's family took me camping. I was one of the last two people with weird medical stories to tell. I won't tell all of them, though, just a couple.

First, when I was, oh, I don't know, somewhere around 5-7 years old, I was riding my bike on our street - it was a dead end with almost no traffic. I'd been riding my bike for maybe a year, and I figured that I was plenty good enough to leave the helmet in the garage. I was cruising down the street, daydreaming, and I ran - BAM! - right into a parked truck. Nothing but me was hurt, thankfully. My mom didn't think it was bad enough to go the the ER (she wishes she'd taken me now) so now I have a scar maybe half an inch long on the top of my head. It makes my part go all crooked and made my bangs quirky when I had them.

Then almost two years ago, I was cantering the second way of the ring at my horseback riding lesson on my brother's birthday (which, ironically, was a Friday the 13th - if I was superstitious I'd have expected it :P ) and the horse spooked at something. I just came off. My head hit the rail - and hard - and if I hadn't been wearing a helmet (thank goodness I learned my lesson the first time! :) ) I would have died then and there. My left arm was badly broken at the wrist - the way I remember it, it was displaced up about two inches from the wrist to the hand. One of the worst days of my life, that. The wait at the Urgent Care seemed like forever, and the nurse had a terrible bedside manner - just about the second she left the examining room, I started crying. The doctor was great, though. Of course I couldn't ride or swim for a couple of months (and our pool opened then, too!) and riding has been really hard since. I think I'm starting to get over my fraidy-cat-ness, though. Or maybe fraidy-horse-ness. I don't know. It's taken me long enough.

-EH

Fortunately, no broken bones, but I've had about a million cuts.  First, when I was REALLY little (like one or two) I had a bad dream, so I was sleeping in my parents bed, and then my dad actually cut my foot with his toenail (okay, that sounds really disgusting...)!  I still have a scar from it!!!!!  Another time, I was scootering (obviously, this is quite a bit later) on my road with a friend, well, my street isn't exactly the smoothest of all roads (...), so I ended up crashing into a hole, my scooter went flying, and I landed on the ground, scraping off almost all of the skin on my left arm (and a little bit on the right!)...  Surprisingly, I didn't cry, though! :) And lately, any sort of scratch or bugbite I get, I get a scar...  Really!!  Nothing heals!!!!!!  It's getting REALLY annoying!!! :( I should change my name to Scar, because I have hundreds of scars!!! :(

I've never broken a bone, but I have gotten a bad cut before. This is how it happened.

When I was about 8 years old, my family and I were visiting my dad's friends at a llama farm. I was about to walk through this old barn, when I tripped on the on the step into the barn. I fell down and felt something dig into the side of my knee. It started hurting SO badly, and I wanted to cry, but I was embarrased to because there were people in the barn. I went over to my mom who was talking to a man and started tugging on her sleeve while trying desperately to hold back to tears. She kept telling me to be quiet and stop, because she didn't want me to interrupt. She finally looked at me and then at my leg and was like, "Oh my goodness!" My jeans were soaked with blood and that's when I started crying. She took me outside to my dad and they made me sit down on the grass. When they pulled up my jeans there was this bloody open wound on the side of my knee. My dad got guaze and tape and wrapped it around my knee (he's a doctor). I was ok for the rest of the day. After we got home that night, my dad took me to get stitches. I still have a scar on my leg and I can't feel there. 

So that's the worst thing that's happened to me. I am also always twisting my ankles. (actually I did it just an hour ago)  

Haha! Prepare to be sitting in front of the computer for a while if you actually read this!

1. When my dad was little, he and a friend were having a contest over who could jump higher and farther off the swings, and so my dad lands on the ground with such an impact that he nearly bites his tongue off! He had to get it sewed back on, and he still has the scar! So, never jump off the swingset!

2. When I was in second grade, I had made cookies with Martia and our mom, and when we took out the pan and put it on the counter, I lost my balance and caught myself on the *gasps* super-burning-hot pan! So I had a huge burn and it was oozing and I still have a little stripe down my left arm from my wrist to my elbow that is slightly darker than the rest of my skin, from the burn. OW!

3. When I was in third grade, I broke my left elbow and had to have surgery and two pins stuck in my arm. (the pins still have blood on them!) How it happened:

Ok, so it was the weekend before school started, I was getting ready
for my Suzuki Book 2 Recital and just that morning my mum had said that
I was ready for the recital. Now, we’re at the big playground, and I’m
just goofing around by the monkey bars. Let me tell you before I move
on that at the time, although I was in third grade, some of the first
graders at my school were almost a head taller than me, and even though
I had to jump to reach the monkey bars at the playground, I was
extremely good at it, and I knew it. So, I’m hanging out by the monkey
bars, the ones with the funky triangular plastic blue handles hanging
on chains, and this girl who was about a foot taller than me was
standing on the ladder on the other side of the monkey bars with her
dad trying to get her to get on. So I think, “Oh, I can show her how
easy it is!”, and jump right on without a second thought, swinging
across from one bar to another. Then, when I’m in the middle, swinging
from my right hand with my left outstretched to the next bar, my sweaty
hand slips from the bar and I fall the whole distance between the
monkey bars and the ground to land straight on my left elbow.
Naturally, the other girl’s dad decides that maybe the monkey bars
aren’t such a good idea and hurries away. So here’s me, lying on the
ground, crying, obviously. So my mom gets me up and into the car and we
head back home. My mom was freaked out, because I hardly ever cry when
hurt unless it’s really serious, and I’m shaking all over. So, we get
home, and I try to open the door with my left hand, and freak out when
I discover that I can’t control my arm from the elbow down. So my mom
calls the doctor and they said to “Put some ice on it overnight, and if
it still hurts in the morning then come to the hospital.”, and I’m
like, “No way. My arm is broken.”, and so we go to the ER, where they
give me a sling and I just sit there for a long time. Then, I get taken
to the x-ray room where they tell me to straighten out my arm for the
x-ray. I’m like,”I can’t straighten it, it’s broken! Hello?” then they
conclude that it is broken. Gah. So then I have to wait I-have-no-idea-how-many hours in a
waiting room for my surgery, finally in the middle of the night they do
my surgery, and it just so happens that one of the nurses is an Elvis
impersonator and just keeps the hairdo all the time. Soo, around 1:00am
I wake up in the ambulance being shuttled to the building where they
keep the patients, I’m groggy from the drugs they used to knock me out
during the surgery, and so the first thing I see is this paramedic with an
Elvis hairdo. My dad says my eyes went as big as saucers! Then I
thought that I was just having a weird dream and went back to sleep. The next morning, my face had swollen up, due to the latex mask that had been on my face during the surgery, and it was three times its usual size, but the doctors didn't beleive my parents untill my dad pulled out a picture of me before the surgery, and then they were like, "Whoa! She's swollen!", and we were like, "Yeah, yeah, we told you!" and it was weird. So the doctors kept me in the hospital for an extra day to keep an eye on it. And then I got back to school and I had to ask a whole bunch of people for help because I couldn't do a lot of things with only one hand. :(

Soo, yeah. Plus all the hundreds of times that I fell down on the sidewalk and got my knees skinned so that they bled and I had scabs all over my knees all the time.