While I'm tremendously accident prone, I don't often get hurt in ways most other people do. I mean, I have my share of spills and papercuts. And those obnoxious mysterious bruises that seem to turn up seemingly out of nowhere and at random, in places you would prefer to know how and when you suffered some sort of trauma.
So I'm not a stranger to hurting myself. I'm just really good at hurting myself in ways most people would never even think about. I've never broken a bone, but I sprained my ankle falling off my porch. I once needed stitches in an accidental self-inflicted stab wound in my knee that I got while trying to chop the head off of a 'My Little Pony' with a utility knife to customize it.
One of the weirdest ways I ever hurt myself was two years ago, when--upon my brother leaving for school and finally allowing my the opportunity to really get down to it--I gave my bathroom a thorough cleaning that involved bleach. The bathroom happens to be a completely internal room in my parent's house--it's smack in the middle of the second floor without sharing any outside walls where you could put a window--so there was no way to properly ventilate it. I ended up breathing so many bleach fumes that I managed to give myself a nasty case of 'chemical pneumonia', a pneumonia-like respiratory condition caused by chemical burns instead of a virus.
It was probably the most miserably ill I had ever felt.
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