I broke and/or sprained every finger in my left hand, because of baseball; although, not all at the same time. Most of these little incidents resulted from trying to catch the ball with my unmitted hand while playing catch...yeah. I had to fight through most of 'em out, too, because my family's medical insurance got cut those few times. Good thing my dad was equipped with some degree of medical know-how, or else I would not have been able to climb trees and skip rocks on the pond and such. The best part of my injuries was sitting out at baseball practices, especially during a time when I HATED playing baseball.
I've only ever had one major surgery, though, and that was to remove and drain a large abscess from beneath my chin. It started off as this weird blister thing I got from burning my lip on the iron, and then that somehow spread(?) to the space between my lower lip and my chin and became some kind of rash thing. Over the course of a few weeks, said rash seemed to have evolved into an abscess that gradually grew larger and larger, until my dad said "I feel obligated to be concerned." So, he set up an appointment with his "buds" (the doctors), and I went in for the surgery about a week or so later. The local anesthesia they used must have been defective, because the draining bit hurt like the dickens. Several doctors and nurses were needed to hold me down—along with my dad—as I squirmed and screamed at the top of my lungs in pain. Neat part of that whole experience was having to wear some kind of bandage-thing for a couple weeks, and heading for the nurse's office at school every day to have it changed. I also wrote and 'illustrated' this neat little book about weather while me, my brother, and my dad waited in the lobby to be seen by the doctor. My teachers and principal thought that it was so good, that they turned it in to some Young Writers Guild(?) thing, and I was featured in their newsletter. The worst part was that, before the surgery, people kept on saying I looked like a pelican. Yeah, rough times.
