Pain Tolerance

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Long story ahead, so buckle up.

First grade. We were on a field trip to the beach, and one of my friends had caught a small fish in a bucket. Naturally, as a five/six year old girl, I was curious and wanted to see. 

My friend—who is no longer my friend—was a little bitch even back then, and she waited for me to lean forwards, then pulled the bucket away, causing me to continue leaning and fall towards it.

Now, that wouldn't have been a problem in itself if the beach we were on wasn't littered with rocks that were covered in barnacles.

So there I was, a small first grader rolling to the side off a giant patch of barnacles, sitting there staring at my leg in some sort of morbid fascination for a few seconds, then getting up and going to tell a teacher because the front of my right leg was RUINED.

Five large slices going diagonally from the bottom right up to the top left were ripped across my leg, with a bunch of smaller cuts lingering around them. The small cuts obviously weren't the problem, the five big ones were.

It looked like I—or at least my leg—had gotten caught in a fight between two wild animals with really sharp claws.

So I'm just calmly walking towards my teacher, and when I get there she's talking to the teacher of the other class that had come with us. She didn't turn to look at me, seeing as I didn't let my presence known until I said, "I need a bandaid," to her.

Both teachers turn to me and go wide eyed as they examine my leg.

Yeah. Turns out I didn't need a bandaid, I needed to go to the hospital because not only was my leg still bleeding, but the five large cuts were also really deep and almost down to the bone.

So an ambulance is called, my parents are notified, the field trip is cut short and the other kids go back to the school with one teacher while the other comes with me.

Not really sure what happened after that, but I do remembet feeling no pain at all and just being really annoyed at everyone around me, because all I asked for was a bandaid and not an entire team of people to be flicking around me and my leg.

And then we went to check up on my legs a couple weeks later for infection, and despite not feeling a thing or being affected the first time around, I was really disgusted with the growing scabs and healing wounds.

A few months later and my leg was healed, I got some wicked scars, and my friend was just as bitchy as she was before.

So thanks, Avery. You made me realize how much I don't feel pain and were the cause of some pretty cool-looking scars.

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