----Begin E-Mail---- Welcome to my wound. April 2000. I was an excessively energetic teenager passing the time watching television and occasional bursts of exercise in the ads. Generally running around like a fool downstairs where no one could see me. We kept a few spare mattresses piled up in one corner of the room. This corner has no less than two windows around it, but, despite this, for a 16 year old the temptation to jump on the mattresses was far too great. After a few basic "jump at the mattresses/wall" attempts I decided on a challenge. I built a vertical wall, and jumped over it onto some mattresses. I built up the wall as high as I could but my crowning moment of clearing 1.9 meters of vertical mattress came to a distressing end with the sound of breaking glass. I had bounced up and put both of my legs through one of the side windows. Luckily there was a heavy curtain in the window that helped protected my left leg. I only noticed the deep laceration after spending a few moments inspecting the broken window, and wondering exactly how I was going to explain it to my father. I promptly ran upstairs to cover the wound and ask for help. ----Begin E-Mail----

Welcome to my wound.

April 2000. I was an excessively energetic teenager passing the time watching television and occasional bursts of exercise in the ads. Generally running around like a fool downstairs where no one could see me.

We kept a few spare mattresses piled up in one corner of the room. This corner has no less than two windows around it, but, despite this, for a 16 year old the temptation to jump on the mattresses was far too great. After a few basic "jump at the mattresses/wall" attempts I decided on a challenge. I built a vertical wall, and jumped over it onto some mattresses.

I built up the wall as high as I could but my crowning moment of clearing 1.9 meters of vertical mattress came to a distressing end with the sound of breaking glass. I had bounced up and put both of my legs through one of the side windows. Luckily there was a heavy curtain in the window that helped protected my left leg.

I only noticed the deep laceration after spending a few moments inspecting the broken window, and wondering exactly how I was going to explain it to my father. I promptly ran upstairs to cover the wound and ask for help.

After holding the cloth on my leg for a while I dared to pull it away and take a look into the cut. I flexed my muscle and saw a large chunk of muscle ooze from the cut. It is still the only time I have ever come close to fainting which is a very enjoyable experience if you ask me. You literally see blackness encroach on your vision until you see only a small circle of light in front of your eyes. And the dizziness is simply euphoric.

That is pretty much all of my story, except that when I went to A&E to get my leg sewn up they didn't have enough local anesthetic and the doctor sewed up the little cut at the top (about 5 stitches) with only one small injection. I had never had stitches before, and it was only when he got to the big cut and injected it about 30 times that I realised it wasn't supposed to feel as though someone was using a heavy rasp to tear long pieces of flesh from my leg.

All up it was about 32 stitches. About 10 or so were to fix the muscle in place (underneath) and there was a small nick in one of my arteries which had to be repaired.
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ED: Oh, to be young and invincible again. Very nice healing on this one. Maybe it's the photography, but you really have to search to find the scars.

Photos:
Stitched up
Leg healed- scarring? what scarring?