HGWs
Monday, Aug 2nd, 2010Have you ever had someone walk up to you and say: “You’ve got an HGW, man. Might want to get that taken care of.”
For men, HGWs are something to be proud of. For women, HGWs are a cause for concern.
I got not one but two HGWs today.
HGWs … We all get them.
Okay, it’s probably about time I told you what HGWs are.
HGWs or Huge Gaping Wounds are a type of damage done to the body, often self-inflicted but not intentional, always unconcealable and often quite gruesome.
Take for example the handsome pair of HGWs or dual HGWs I got while jogging today:
How did I manage to do that you ask?
Well, it all started the day before yesterday … [que harp strum, indicating flashback]
I was on a hike with a friend. A long part of the hike wasn’t on an actual trail per se but a streambed. More specifically, a very long, narrow and rocky streambed.
Rather than walk the up the streambed, I decided to run because I wanted to get that long and tedious part of the hike over with.
My friend, who once beat me in a dorm wrestling match, often jests about being stronger than I so, naturally, I made sure he trailed at least 20 meters behind while jogging up the streambed.
You’d think I’d have gotten an HGW from one of the many jagged rocks that passed under my feet. Instead, I only got very small sores on the back of my ankles from sprinting up the streambed. It rained later during the hike so my soaking wet socks and shoes only irritated the sores and made them bigger.
The sores didn’t convert to full-blown HGWs until I went for a jog the next day. I know that most people have things called “nerve endings” on their ankles which, in this scenario, would cause them to stop running because of the pain. Apparently I was not blessed with such physiological features or, if I did have nerve endings on my ankles, they were simply not working that day.
The end result was two HGWs that hinder my ability to walk without looking like a waddling duck.
Finding practical uses for HGWs
All HGWs have immediate negative side effects (i.e. pain) and most have long term negative side effects. Some HGWs, however, can serve practical or cosmetic purposes that may outweigh negative side effects. Allow me to explain.
Working as a camp counselor during the summer of ’08, I contracted an HGW while attempting the low ropes course in shorts during counselor training week. The HGW was on the back of my right leg and it was so large that newly arriving kids, before asking my name, would first ask where I got my HGW.
I would tell the kids that I was a professional polar bear wrestler and that I had gotten the HGW recently from the only match I had ever lost in my career. Amazingly, all of the kids in the camp believed me. And my co-counselors were in on it too.
The camp counselors also perpetuated the myth that mystical creatures called “beaversharks” inhabited the streams surrounding the campground. We even made tee-shirts and documentaries. After all, if it’s on a tee-shirt or in a documentary then it must be true. But despite our extreme efforts of persuasion, a small minority of kids still questioned the existence of beaversharks.
None of the kids questioned the nature of my profession outside of camp however. Mr. Chris was a polar bear wrestler, that much was certain. And he had an HGW to prove it.
If you have ever been a camp counselor or have had to discipline rambunctious male pre-teens on a frequent basis, I am sure you can imagine the benefits of having the reputation of a world-class polar bear wrestler. The HGW I received during pre-camp hurt like nothing else but it later proved to be a worthy exchange of pain for respect.
Then there was the time during highschool when I was playing floor hockey in the gym and one of my rather large classmates high-sticked me in the face. At first, I was very upset about this HGW. It wasn’t so much the pain of bleeding profusely from the chin after having been high-sticked in the face. What bothered me was the fact that my gym teacher had just lectured about sending anyone to the principal’s office who so much as dared lift their hockeystick more than one foot off the ground. I was also upset that said high-sticker didn’t get so much as a slap on the rist let alone a ticket to the principal’s office. As a matter of fact, the game didn’t even stop as I recall.
The next day, I was eating lunch in the cafeteria. A friend sitting across from me noticed my HGW.
“Dude,” he said, looking up from his food. “That’s a pretty nice HGW. It’s going to become a scar one day. The ladies will love it. I wish I, and not you, had gotten that HGW.”
The other guys sitting at the table agreed wholeheartedly.
Intrigued by this, I went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror to examine my HGW.
Indeed, the HGW was scabbing quite nicely and I surmised that it could very well have developed into a scar. When I got home from school I asked my mom, a nurse, what my odds were. She told me that there was a high probability it would turn into a scar and that I ought to stay out of the sun. Not coincidentally, I spent a lot of time outside that month.
The results were extraordinary.
The scar on my chin, just below my lip, had formed perfectly. I fancied it a strong imitation of the magnificent chin scar sported by temple daring, bull-whipin’ manly-man Harrison Ford.
I never got a chance to thank the rather large classmate responsible for the HGW-turned-scar. If you’re out there somewhere, I thank you. And I bear no grudge against you.
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Well I could go on and on about HGWs. I could write a whole post series on HGWs or even a book titled “The HGW Chronicles,” but I won’t. I have respect for your time, and mine.
Perhaps I will share more HGW stories in another post. I could write about the time I split my chin after falling off my bike. The HGW that resulted from that fall caused me a great deal of anxiety because I feared the undesirable formation of a Travolta-like butt chin. Or I could write about the many HGWs I received while employed as a skate guard at a roller rink. There’s just so many HGWs and so little time.
Oh yes, and be sure to regale me with stories of your HGWs via the comment form below. This blog is getting quite lonely. I can’t help but to imagine hearing the sound of crickets as I type.
Quiet the cricket sounds and leave a comment
A glowy picture of my dog
A glowy picture of my other dog
