Injuries While Drunk: Search and Destroy

I also once decided to swim straight down in a swimming pool with my eyes shut, only to ram my nose into the bottom of the pool. And I was sober.

I got injured last year some time because I was getting chips and I started talking to some large scumbag. I can't remember what I said, cos I was smashed, but my friends told me the whole chipper was laughing and I kept taking the piss out of him. I do remember when I was leaving I blew him a kiss or something and, sadly, I also remember him going mental and smashing my head off a wall.

But my eh....finest hour was on Paddys Day this year. I'd had about 6 or 7 cans and I decided it was time to drink some wine. Of course noone else wanted some or something so I ended up drinking an absurd amount. I was staggering around happily for a few hours then we were in a friends house and apparently I told everyone I was leaving. An hour later my friends found me face down on the gravel driveway. Er....in my own sick and blood and stuff. It was horrible. At the time I felt nothing and I'd kind of forgotten the next morning until I saw myself in the mirror and realised I was my lip was big enough to touch my eyelids. also I had gashes around my face and stuff. I couldnt go out in public for a week or so. I still don't know how I fell onto my face. Cos my knee was hurt too.

A friend of mine from Victoria once concussed himself from drunkenly climbing and then falling out of a tree onto his head. I was pretty impressed with the stupidity of that.

Back in the days when being drunk used to make me have boundless energy (unlike today where it usually just makes me sleepy) I had this rather famous tendency to suddenly become a 'runner'. The odd thing is that I kind of hate running, always have, but with a bit of a spin on my brain, suddenly I felt like sprinting must be the best thing in the world and walking home wasn't good enough, so I just had to RUN. Inevitably after the first 100 metres or so I'd get a rubber knee and *wham* down onto the pavement. Not that this stopped me from getting back up and continuing to run. Many many a black knee I have had! It was quite funny when it got to the point where my boyfriend would know this routine well enough that he would latch on to the fabric of my sleeve just as we stepped out, and would refuse to let go until I was home. That strategy worked up until the night I "got wise" and left him there holding my coat by a single sleeve.

Last night I had the worst sleep, I could not get comfortable as I've skinned the whole lower inside of my elbow playing football the other day (Sci-fi Stephen was nearly fighting!) and I can't go for a shower because the pain is so intense when even the smallest drop of water touches it. I'm thinking of cling-filming it and then washing. I also kicked a plug today accidentally so now I have a little blood blister on my right little toe. And I have a regular blister (because my football boots are too small; or the right one is too small; I wear mixed boots; don't ask) on my second smallest toe on my right foot.

Relay your current injuries to ilx.

Best injury when drunk ever - I once jumped into bed but overestimated the size of the bed, thereby smashing my nose on the wall. My nose is slightly crooked as a result.

My brother did the best stupid drunk injury evah. He got drunk on his bucks night (as you do), and decided for a lark to tackle all the trees in the park rugby style. Which went ok til about the third tree, upon which he promptly broke his arm.

He had to get married 2 days later with a broken arm in a bright blue and white cast (they had to give him some special waterproof one, as his honeymoon plans were to go to Fiji, heh).

Then to compound matters a guy on the bus this morning with down syndrome went mental and started spitting on some people (not me) and kicking others (me). First and last time I ever sit downstairs. It

Super-dark bruise on left thigh, possible source - party after friend's wedding weekend before last.

A slightly sore right little toe, definate source, my friend Jack treading on me whilst standing by the bar at his gig on Thursday.

A collection of small bruises, sources to consider, above wedding and gig, most recent two FAPs.

I still can't shower. I'm not buying cling-film. I'd rather stink.

I can't recall getting any interesting injuries while drunk myself, but a guy at university once had a huge scab on his forehead. I asked him how he'd got it and he told me he'd got drunk, thrown up in the sink, then lifted his head up and collided with the tap.

i didn't know anything was wrong until the morning. But then it was very wrong indeed.

I took this from my girfriends livejournal.

You may've read about how Mikey cut himself today. Now here's MY version of the story.

I was awoken by Mikey staggering in a bedroom with a towel wrapped around his leg going, "Aaah! Aaaaah! Aaaah! Aaaah!"

Me: "What's wrong?"
Mikey: "Oh, um...AAAAH! Nothing, I just - AGH - cut my leg and - AUGH - spilled some coffee AAAAAGH but don't worry, I'llcleanitupI'llcleanitup!"
Me: "Wait, what? What? How did you cut your leg?"
Mikey: "Don't worry about it! AAAGH!"
Me: "Mikey. How did you cut your leg?"
Mikey: "I knelt on my coffee plunger."
Me: "Oh FUCK. Go wash it off. I'll clean this up."
Mikey: "No! Go back to bed! I'll clean it up! I made the mess AAAGH!"
Me: "GET IN THE FUCKING SHOWER AND WASH YOUR CUT GODDAMMIT."
Mikey: "Okay. Aagh."

Ten seconds later, in the bathroom.

Me: "Let me look at it."
Mikey: "It's fine, really. Ow. Ow. Ow."
Me: "Shit, that is a deep cut."
Mikey: "No, it'll be okay."
Me: "Mikey, I can see the fat and flesh beneath your skin. That's not right."
Mikey: "It'll be okay, really."
Me: "We have to get you to a hospital."
Mikey: "NO NO NO. NO HOSPITAL AAAAGH."
Me: "I think we should."
Mikey: "NO! NO! I DON'T WANT TO GO THE HOSPITAL NOOOO AAAAUGH OWWWWW OWWWW!"
Me: "Oh Jesus. All right, keep washing it. I'll call your parents."

Mikey's parents are not home.

Me: "Okay, I'll call my mom and Remar." (Who are both nurses.)

Mom and Remar are not at home.

Me: "Mikey, seriously. You need to go the hospital."
Mikey: "I don't want to go the hospital! AAAUGH NO HOSPITAL SERIOUSLY I'LL BE FINE I'LL BE FINE AAAAUGH I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL! THE BLEEDING HAS STOPPED, SEE? AAAAUGH OW I DON'T HAVE TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL!"
Me: "Okay, you know what? FINE. But at least let me put some hydrogen peroxide on it."
Mikey: "Hmm. That didn't even hurt. I didn't feel anything."
Me: "Really?"
Mikey: "The bottom of my leg kind of feels numb."
Me: "YOU ARE GOING TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL."
Mikey: "NOOOOOOO!"

I call Epworth's ER.

Me: "Hi, my boyfriend has a pretty bad cut on his leg, and we're trying to figure out if he should come in or not."
Nurse: "Well, I'm not looking at it so I really have no idea." (Okay, you know what? Unnecessarily bitchy. I've hung out in enough ERs and seen my mom in action enough to know that what they're SUPPOSED to say is, 'What does it look like/how big is it/is it bleeding/where is it/how does it feel, etc.')
Me: "Well, look, he cut himself on a big piece of glass. The wound is about half an inch long, but it's the depth that worries me. I can see flesh and fat. It's stopped bleeding, but the cut's just under his knee and the rest of his leg below that is starting to go numb."
Nurse: "Oh. Come on down!"

I hang up.

Me: "Mikey, they said you need to go the hospital. Go the hospital."
Mikey: "I'M NOT GOING TO GO THE HOSPITAL AAAUGHHH OW OW OW NOOOOO!"
Me: "Okay, you know what? Fine. Don't go to the hospital. We only have these little bandaids to put on it. I guess we'll have to use a few."
Mikey: "WHAT? NO! I HAVE TO GO THE HOSPITAL! I NEED TO GO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW!"
Me: "Okay, well, I can't drive you and I don't feel comfortable with you walking. Let's call you a cab."
Mikey: "NO. I WILL WALK. I'M GOING TO THE HOSPITAL."
Me: "You cut your leg. You shouldn't be walking there. I'll call you a cab."
Mikey: "NO, I'M FINE! I SWEAR! I'M FINE! I'M GOING TO WALK. LOOK AT ME, I AM GETTING DRESSED AND BRUSHING MY TEETH."
Me: "Okay, well, do you want me to throw on some clothes and go down with you, or shower and dress and then meet you there?"
Mikey: "Whatever you want, I'll be fine."
Me: "Mikey, seriously. Do you want me to walk down with you or meet you there?"
Mikey: "Whatever you want to do. I'm fine. Really."
Me: "ARRRGH fine."

20 minutes later, I walk to Epworth (which is about a three-minute walk away from our place, thank goodness) and find Mikey already done and about to pay his bill.

Me: "Are you okay?"
Mikey: "I have stitches!"
Me: "Phew. Did they say if there was any nerve damage?"
Mikey: "They put anesthetic in me!"
Me: "Are you okay? Can you walk just yet, or do you need to sit down?"
Mikey: "Let's go home, I'm fine."
Me: "Okay."

On the walk home.

Mikey: "You know, I don't think I really had to go in. I think I could've taken care of it myself without going to the hospital."
Me: "Really? Is that what they said?"
Mikey: "Oh no! They said I really should've come in, so it was good that I did."
Me: "DUHHHHHH."

My GOD. The poor baby. If I didn't live with him, he'd probably be huddled in the fetal position in the courtyard, trying to entice the neighborhood cat to lick his wound. Now I am not letting him move. I am one Nurse Ratchet motherfucker.

Thanks to Mikey, though, I am developing an encylopedic knowledge of how to remove various stains from carpet. So far, I've had to combat balsamic vinegar, risotto, spaghetti sauce, raspberry Icy Pole, lime Icy Pole, sweet chilli sauce, and now the two big bads, coffee and blood. And I am kicking their ASSES.

well last thursday i got home from a party and then woke up the next morning with a giant bump on my head that was sore and giant scratches on my feet and ankles. i dunno where they came from.

OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW.

i passed out against the heater and burned the small of my back last year. hic.

nasty!

Checking behind me for traffic while changing lanes on the Strand last night, I turned my bike's handlebars as well as my head and completely stacked it on the central reservation.

I now have a left ankle the size of a grapefruit and a small but gruesome gash on my right hand.

uh oh!
People who look over their shoulder to check their blind spot when changing lanes on a motorway, classic or fucking terrifying?

ha! I don't think anyone would disagree that drunk people who look over their shoulder to check their blind spot when changing lanes is fucking terrifying.

than texting?

no way, texting whilst drunk is always fucking terrifying

Ugh. I'm really quite skilled at drunken injuries. My best both happened in my first year of Uni.

#1: Got smashed at a free beer function (as you do). Me and my friend Matt were drinking buddies for the night, and we were standing around, throwing back a couple of cold ones when the DJ started spinning some awesome song. Matt grabbed my hand and was all, LET's GO! Thing about this particular venue is that it had a wooden parquetry floor. That was covered in beer. Parquetry + beer + running = danger will robinson. Of course, Matt and I skid into a wet patch on the floor, fly into the air, ass over tit, and both land on our FACES. He ended up with a gigantic unicorn/cyclops egg right in the middle of his forehead...and I smashed my forehead open right above my eyebrow. Drunk med students told me I was fine, and being a fresher I believed them, and somehow ended up passing out in my bed. Next day one of the tutors did a double take at the ugly gash and sent me straight over to the Uni med center. The cut was too smooshed for stitches, apparently...and it actually ended up healing okay. You can hardly see it now.

#2. Finished my exams and proceeded to get hammered on a six-pack of Grolsch. On an empty stomach. A bunch of friends were hanging out in my room and I was sitting on the floor, drunk as a skunk. I stood up to sit on the bed...missed the bed completely and smacked my head on the ye olde oil heater. OW. No injury to speak of. An older student saw me later and determined I was concussed and made me go to the med center. A handsome African doctor tickled my feet and shone torches in my eyes and determined that I probably was concussed when it happened, but that now I was merely drunk, and sent me on my way.

favorite was the time i twisted my own ankle (in the comfort of my home, no less!) bc i was so excited to go tell everyone about this music i'd put on that would just perfectly match our margaritas. i didn't think anything of it at the time, but the next day i had a baseball sized lump on the side of my leg and had to fly home for christmas with a hangover so bad i thought i wasn't going to make it through the flight.

Hehheh @ "ugly gash".

No one is being very sympathetic to ME btw. I have to go to A+E now ffs.

I was hoping the 'ugly gash' would slip by unnoticed. I lolled to myself when I wrote it, but seriously, it is an accurate description of the injury.

Good luck at the A+E. Don't ride your bike there. :)

No physical as far as I can recall. But I did once mysteriously loose a t-shirt (with some haagen daz ice cream vomit on it) in the Hilton hotel. I doubt the cleaning lady stole it cause she wanted it for herself. ;-) I can vaguely remember the weekend: guiness, london, art exhibition, drinks, ice cream, taxi cab, vomit, beer, friends, beer, laughing, fish 'n' chips,... and more beer. Oh and pizza. And beer.

A lifetime ago. I can't remember the last time I had a drink. Think it was after I stopped breastfeeding Ophelia maybe? So EEEP about three years ago. Time to correct this.

My dad used to dive from the (wooden) stairs in our old home when he was piss drunk. Never hurt himself. Lucky bastard.

Won't post the picture itself cuz it's not the done thing but feel free to click. hic: http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg187/nick-uptoeleven/Image060.jpg

Went to the pub instead of the hopital. Am no longer deserving of sympathy but thanks VG!

Owie owie OW!!! Bloody hell that really does look like it hurts. Have the bartender pour you a medicinal single malt on me. OW.

Just remember, take the cab home. NO BIKES.

Broek. The novelty of plaster cast (only half cast until tomorrow) and crutches has already worn off.

Responding to the OP from 7 years ago, I've managed, despite spending a subtantial fraction of my adult life inebriated, to never injure anyone else, nor anything worse than a bruse on myself. I supect part of the reason is that when muscles are sufficiently relaxed, we fall like rag dolls minimizing stress.

My worst fall? Shuffling into the bathroom after about 0.8 liter of straight vodka, I leaned too far in one direction, and knocked into the sliding glass shower curtain of a bathtub, falling in with a buttock lodged against the extruded aluminum edge. In my flailing, the hitherto uninvolved other sliding glass partition swung in as well, but only caught me by the shin as the porcelained cast iron rose up to catch me.

It made an incredible ruckus, waking my sister in the wee hours, but before she came around to investigate, I had managed to rehang the door, and shuffle to bed. My memory of the incident is vague, as much of the accident narrative was pieced together from the evidence of the bent aluminum railing and large linear bruise across my buttocks the following morning, awaking from a sleep of angels.

i lost teeth going up for a 3am aerial challenge for a tossed big mac on main street with a random stranger in third year at college.

Worst injury I ever got while drunk was my one and only black eye.

I passed out and fell directly into a new bottle of wine I was carrying once. Pretty lucky I somehow landed w the back of my head rather than the front, woke up bleeding horribly. Told a guy a foot taller than me he was stupid and got knocked out for 20 mins or so, nose now a bit broken. Found a almost working bike in the rubbish and decided I HAD to ride it the hr or so walk home once, fell over about 60 times. It was kinda funny tho cos I could see the falls coming; I'd see say a telephone pole ahead and resignedly think "I'm going to hit that, aren't I", do so, totter around, collapse.

Oh and I woke up after a New Year's on which we'd started the night out seperately to find my girlf'd dumped me in the meantime once.