Welcome to Blood Week. We put out the call on Friday for your tales of of blood, violence, gruesome injuries, near-death experiences, mayhem, and blood. Many of you came through with submissions, which we'll be posting throughout the week. If you have a story and/or photos to share, email [email protected], with Blood Week in the subject line.
Up next is Alex, who has a cautionary tale about cleanliness:
One night around 10 p.m., I decided to wash dishes (very manly) and there was this really tough spot (created due to not washing dishes), and so I had the plate against the bottom of the sink and side and really dug into it to get the dish clear. The dish, of course, snaps in half as I am on a scrubbing downstroke and my right thumb goes right through the edge of the dish. Immediately blood is all over the sink and the counter. I step back (in surprise) and start bleeding all over the floor. I try to wrap it up with paper towel but that gets soaked really quickly so I head to the linen closet (a trail of blood now across my apartment) and get a towel. I call my dad (a doctor) and say, "Dad, how big does a cut have to be to need stitches?" He replies, in perfect deadpan, "I'll be there to pick up up in ten minutes."
So we head to the hospital. The towel is literally more blood than towel at this point...(the nurse even asked if I wanted it back)...four hours in ER with throbbing thumb now wrapped up in hospital gauze...seven stitches...ER doc said that my "career as a hand model was over," and I now have a scar from washing dishes.