That which does not kill me, makes me stronger; A helpful node for potential cerulean assassins.

The following methods have been tried:

-- Auto-Cannibalism: Falling off the top rail of a swingset I had just climbed, causing me to bite off part of the inside of my right cheek and swallow it. Age: 4. Outcome: Following the swallowed-too-much-blood puking session, went to the ER and survived. I can still feel the scar tissue with my tongue.

-- Poisoning: Having people try on several occasions to feed me peanut products, just to see if I really was allergic. Ages: 4, 6, 13, and 15. Outcome: Luckily, having been conditioned in the best Pavlovian sense to hate and fear peanuts, I gag on the first bite of whatever. Only at age 13 do I consume enough to need the shot. Now if I can just survive while spending a majority of my adult life saying, "No Grandma, I can have a walnut brownie. Peanuts aren't nuts, they're legumes."

-- Disgust: Spending sophomore year living with a girl known as Swamp Thing to the freshman class. Horrible. /msg me if you wanna hear the stories, there's too many to writeup. Age: 18-19. Outcome: Survived. Decided personal hygiene is always a good thing in a roommate.

-- Diseases: Part One: Meningitis. Age: 14. Outcome: I lived, but that's about all I remember. During most of it, my fever was so high I was delirious.
Part Two: Senior year, I got sick and it seemed to be meningitis. I'm really quite proud of this one: the doctor told me, while he was performing the Spinal Tap, that I had a really high tolerance for pain. Most people scream when he does this part. I credited it to having had my braces tightened every month for three years. Age: 21. Outcome: "Gee, that's some clear spinal fluid. Wanna see? Well, I guess our diagnosis is that you have some sort of Viral Syndrome, which happens to be exactly like meningitis. But we can't do anything for you. Uh, call us if you have recurrent headaches from the spinal tap."
Part Three: Pneumonia. Three months after the not-meningitis. Interestingly, it was Streptococcal Pneumonia, caused by the same bacteria which causes meningitis, only it infected my lungs and not my brain. Age: 21. Outcome: I almost didn't get all my final assignments in to graduate on time... almost.

-- Heartbreak: Having the first guy I fell for tell me I should save myself the embarrassment and just become a nun, since no guy in his right mind would want me. Several variations on the theme since, though none so brutal as that. Ages: 14, 16, 17, 18, 19. Outcome: I'm still here.

-- Really Uncomfortable Shoes. 'Nuff said.

-- Guilt: If you could die of guilt, I would have, after the time I stabbed my suitemate with an exacto knife. Note: Good Idea: Mounting the results of your research project on pressboard. Bad Idea: Gesturing emphatically while holding an exacto knife. Age: 19. Outcome: No hard feelings, we got an A+ on the project, and she has a neat scar.

-- Blake-ing: We had a Tech Director by the name of Blake for a while who was so manly, he used to always screw things in so far that he stripped the screw and it was impossible to remove. Set pieces and wood ruined through this method were said to be "Blaked." One day, while operating the miter saw on a four by four of treated wood, he hit a screw, which broke the blade of the saw, split the wood, and sent shards of it in all directions... including into my sclera. Age: 17. Outcome: I can still see, and he didn't get to be TD anymore.

-- Impalement: On a three and a half inch screw, of which about two and a half inches was protruding from the wall of a bathroom where my sister and I got into a catfight. Age: 12. Outcome: Cool scar, missed all the leaky spewy internal organs. Got a tetanus shot.

-- Blunt Objects: Including but not limited to: Bookcases falling on me, crates of china falling on me, 2x4s, and U-haul trucks. Ages: all. Outcome: huh? what? yes, thank you susan.

-- Falling: Including but not limited to: the time I fell down two flights of metal stairs in school. Age: 11. Outcome: Broken hand, lots of bruises, neck intact. The time the sketchy ladder finally gave out, unfortunately while I was on it hanging fresnels. Age: 21. Outcome: Fine. Wow. Good thing I didn't fall on that. Or that. Or that. How'd I live through this again?

-- Animal Attack: My own fault, I leaned back and stuck one entire arm into a anthill without noticing. A fire ant hill. Southern noders know what I mean. Age: 12. Outcome: Fifty-seven of the bites scarred; those must've been the ones I scratched.

--Grief: Over both family members and a disproportionate number of my friends.

--Number Four of the ways to kill people with your bare hands: The one where you take the heel of your hand and use it to pound your oppenent's nose into their brain? Had it done by a rogue lacrosse ball. In a dorm hallway. Don't ask. Age: 18. Outcome: Another trip to the ER. Went into shock from blood loss. Still had to wait an hour to see the doctor. Result: the bone had snapped and the broken off bone was pushed under the part still attatched to my head. Was told it was the worst possible way to break a nose. Surgery fixed it and took that bump I'd always had out of my nose. Bonus!

-- Head Revolt: AKA - Headaches. Migraine. Cluster. Chronic Paroxysmal Hemicrania. This must be my two-teenaged girls-in-the-house headache. Age: Since always. Outcome: No aneurysms yet.

Moral of the story: I survived all this, I'm sure I can survive the 'real world' I've just graduated into. I hope.

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