How frightening does it seem to know that you have cut yourself open and you need to get stitches? When I was ten, I was pushed off a bunk bed and fell head first on the floor. It was a Saturday morning when we were having a good time playing hide and seek. We were at my neighbors’ house playing when this incident happened.
It all began when we were really bored at my neighbors’ house. My neighbor, his sisters, my brothers, and I decided to play a small game of hide and seek because there wasn’t anything else to do. We made up our own rules to make the game even more interesting. The rules were that we couldn’t play outside the house, and whoever was “it” couldn’t get on top ...view middle of the document...
He was getting mad because I wasn’t getting down so he then told me, “If you don’t get down, I’ll get you down!” and as soon as I heard him say that, someone pushed me from behind as if a car had hit me. Then suddenly I saw myself flying to the floor at the speed of light. On my way down, all I remember seeing was a Barbie doll on the floor which I landed on.
From that point on, everything turned into a disaster. As soon as I got up, I touched my face, and felt it warm and wet. That only meant that my hand was full of blood. I immediately began crying hot tears that ran down my cheeks because I knew that I had split my forehead open. Suddenly my neighbor’s big sister immediately jolted through the door to see what had happened. When she saw me bleeding, she picked me up and rushed me to my house with my mom. When my mom saw how badly I was cut open, she began to clean me up a little and said, “I need to get you to the hospital as soon as possible.” Once she was done cleaning me up, she took me to the hospital to get stitches.
When I got to the emergency room, one of the nurses took my information and then took me into a room were another nurse disinfected my wound. When the doctor walked in, he checked my injury and told me I had to get stitches, I was really scared because all I remember seeing was the doctor sowing me with needles but it didn’t take long until he said, “Ok son, your good to go.” I had received five stitches to close my wound.
That was the time I got my first stitches. Ever since that day I have always been extra careful not to injure myself because it isn’t a good feeling to know that you need to get stitches.