Here's an amusing one for ya.
I was eight years old at the time, my uncle (former NYPD officer, and still a nutcase) brought his bb revolver over to my house. He decided he wanted to discharge the C02 cartridge in the gun, so he shot this thing repeatedly, I mean, repeatedly at my moms legs, at the neighbors legs, into his hand a few times... then he asked me, "ya wanna feel it?" I said "Heck No!" he's like.. why not? I say to him, "cause I don't trust your crazy a$$!" (haha, imagine, an 8 year old saying this.) So he shoots the gun into his hand ANOTHER time to show me, it's just air! Fine!, I put my hand out, he shoots it.... BANG! I'm screaming at the top of my lungs... crying like a baby. he looks at me like I'm faking it. until I pull my hand away to reveal the massive amount of blood pouring from the palm of my hand. my mom jumps up like super woman, carries me to the sink to wash my hand under warm water. still bleeding like a faucet. she tries to wrap it til my dad gets home. not really sure of what to do. so at this point I'm fading in and out of conciousness, I just remember her yelling at my uncle the entire time, "you're an idiot! keep your d@mn guns at home!" etc...
so finally my dad gets home, and he looks at it, and begins sticking automotive magnets into the bleeding hole that's now home to a .177 calibre piece of (non-magnetic) copper.
but here's where the story gets better. so after searching up and down on the porch outside, sure enough they find a bb. so they patched me up, and called it a night.
18 years later, about two years ago, I was injured at work, I hyper-extended my thumb on the job, so naturally my company sends me to the workers comp doctor to get x-rays taken on my thumb. this beautiful, petite x-ray tech comes into the room I was waiting in, (trying not to make it obvious that I'm totally checking her out) she asks me "what do you have in your hand?!?" so I look at my hand and with confusion reply, nothing? see? empty!... "NoNoNo, what's IN your hand?!" hmm.... "IN my hand?! lemme see those!"
now, when you look at x-rays, it doesn't show skin, so, I'm thinking this little round ball is sitting between my fingers. I tell her... your machine is messed up! then it dawned on me, after putting my hand up to the picture... palm of my hand. wow... after all these years.. I still had that dang thing inside my hand. I thought.. How Cool Am I?!?!
So I ran out of the office, told her... gotta make a phone call... be RIGHT back! called my dad, hey dad!!! remember the time when such and such shot me with the bb gun?!?!
Dad: "yeah"
Me:"well guess what?!"
Dad: "it's still in there"
hmm... as if he'd known it all along. Parents! I swear!
in any case, the doctor told me there's so much scar tissue built around it, it makes no sense to take it out, it'll never bother you.
I'm thinking, Bother Me?!?! Hell, I wanna name it!
- Dacoda -