I guess my son is a little like me

I've been told I need to blog more often and am taking it to heart. In light of my last post I have decided to write a but about my own experience with stitches. Aside from medical procedures I've had stitches three times. I really don't have any recollection of the first two incidences, but they did leave some great scars that I carry to this day.

Annzy won't appreciate this, but she contributed to my first experience with stitches when she was done paying and I was not. The next happened not long after the first while I was playing at the neighbors house. In both of these situations my parents were unavailable and the Dildine family took me to the hospital. I guess I might have them to thank for my life today.

The third happened when I was in high school and my parents were yet again unavailable. I cut my head open on a nail sticking through a board in the orchestra pit of the schools auditorium. The nail was hording nothing together, it was just stuck through a board. The nail looke something like this.
I had to go to the school nurse and she tried to call my mom, but she couldn't be reached, same story with my dad, so my oldest sister was the next option. She was a teacher at another high school and was not accustom to getting calls during class, but in this case, an emergency, her classroom phone rang during the last period of the day.

She came and got me taking me to the doc-in-a-box where they told me I had a gash in my head about one and a quarter inches long. To numb the area the used cocaine as a local anesthetic, it was my firs and to date only experience with the drug. When my boy had to get the staples in his head I asked if they would use cocaine and the nurse just gave me a strange look and said they use a topical cream.

I think I ended up with six stitches and some really short hair right where the cut was. I think I was more concerned with having my hair cut than getting the stitches, but I'm a little strange about may hair that way.