All right. I've now read this thread from beginning to end. When I hit page 5 or 6 I joined Craftster, because I obviously had found a home. (I wonder just how many of us did exactly that?)
Of course, I've done all the usual bits. Hot glue guns, pins, needles, even the evil sewing machine.
But the worst, and in retrospect funniest, injury I ever did to myself was when I was working on a dollhouse.
I'd finished constructing the main frame of the house. I was using a hot glue gun to attach the windowsills. When I'd finished with it, I realized the hot glue had dripped down the outside of the house, leaving stripes on the lovely apricot paint. Not one to be intimidated by potential disaster, I picked up the exacto blade I'd been using to trim edges with, and began turning the house (it was a small one) around quickly, using the exacto to cut the stripes of glue off. This worked great, until I made it back around to the start and noticed that the lower half of that side was covered in red paint. Red? I wasn't using red. In fact, the floor had some red too. I put down the house and the blade, which also had a share, and began to get a clue.
I looked at my hands.
Apparently, when I'd trimmed the first bit of glue, I'd slashed the new exacto blade through my left ring finger just below the last joint. And it was bleeding like crazy. Everywhere. I remember looking at my finger and thinking, "Oh look, that's what my fingerbone looks like..."
I got up and headed to the bathroom in the flat, but i was a little dizzy. (Did I mention a lot of blood?)
After catching myself on the wall a few times, I rinsed the finger in the sink, plopped some neosporin in, and wrapped it tightly with a BandAid. I then went to the bedroom and passed out cold.
A few hours later I wake to a scream.
My boyfriend of the time had apparently tried to call home and I'd slept through the ring. He got home and the first wall that faces the door is the long blank white wall to the bathroom - covered in bloody handprints (where I'd braced myself, of course with the hand that was bleeding). The bathroom is all white porcelain, and it's got blood everywhere. And the living room had a trail too. My feeble meep from the bedroom was not reassuring, and after my explanation I was forced to SWEAR never to use an exacto again unless he was home.
I wish I'd gotten pictures of the place though. After I got up again, I saw what he meant. The house looked like the staging ground for a slasher flick!
I still have a long white scar that runs from the top of my finger all the way around. and while it healed up amazingly well without stitches, I still can't feel the tip of that finger very well. It moves fine, though.
who's glad her crafts are less dangerous than some.