A Chin-teresting Story: How I became the real Scarface

I was organizing my computer hard drive the other day and came across a folder entitled “Busted Chin”. The Busted Chin folder was inside another folder entitled “Pictures”. I immediately knew what I had come across. I came across some pictures and the memories of a night that I won’t soon forget. Who am I kidding? A majority of this is still quite hazy in my mind. Anyway, I should also preface this story with an announcement:

The following story and pictures are disgusting and should not be viewed by anyone that cringes at the site of a little blood and guts. You’ve been warned.

It was Friday February 6^th, 2009. I was out with a friend that night. We had a few drinks and some pub grub at a spot just down the road from my apartment. We came back to my place and put on a movie. We both eventually fell asleep during the movie. It was about an hour later and I was awoken by the flickering movie from my computer screen and severe cotton mouth. Seriously, bone dry. I needed hydration. I arose from my bed and made my way to the kitchen. I live in a medium sized Toronto apartment. So the trip from the bedroom to the kitchen is not that far. Half way to the kitchen though, something didn’t feel right. I was seeing stars. This has happened to me before. I was light headed from getting up too quickly. I knew the drill. I knew what I needed to do. I needed to get some blood into my head. STAT! Now I obviously wasn’t thinking straight at this point because I had the great idea to pull a 180 and head right back to my room to my bed. You’re a genious, Brian…not only will you make it back to your bed, you will be comfortable while the blood disperses itself evenly throughout your body. At least that’s how my blood deprived head saw the events transpire. My body had other ideas. I pulled the 180 then everything went dark.

I awoke a few seconds later feeling a little different than from when I was standing. First things first, I was just a step away from my bedroom door. Hm, I guess I almost got to my room. The next thing I noticed is a pool of blood as I peeled my face off the hardwood floor in the apartment. My nose felt fine. It wasn’t broken. Score! Funny thing is, I didn’t remember eating Tic-Tacs before I passed out. So what were all the Tic Tacs in my mouth? Oh…right, those were actually my teeth. Well not the entire tooth…just bits and pieces from about five teeth in the back of my mouth. It seems as though when I fell, I didn’t put my arms out to support myself. I absorbed the impact with my face. My jaw slammed against my skull with so much force that chipped the teeth as they smashed together. SPPP! SPPP! SPPP! I spit those out of my mouth. I was starting to feel pretty tough at this point. Too bad I was still on the ground wondering where all this blood came from. Next thing I know, There is a shadow standing above me. Holy smokes, I died and the Grim Reaper has come. Oh wait. It’s just my room mate Blair. Blair had already been sleeping and had his door closed but I guess the sound of 160 pounds of muscle hitting the floor woke him up.

Blair tells the story of the look we both had on our faces when we made eye contact. He was looking down at me and I was looking up at him and neither of us really knew how I got there or what had happened. Utter confusion from both of us. At this point, I allegedly starting to pass out again. Blair, being the trained physician he is, took part in “face slapping” to help me regain consciousness. Oddly enough it worked. I got up and made my way to the washroom with his help to get a better look at the damage. OH! There’s where the blood came from. I have a hole in my chin. I would later find out I suffered from a compression skin fracture. That means my skin pressed up against the bone in my chin so hard that the skin just broke apart, hence the gaping hole in my face. To me, it kind of looked like the initial surgical cuts into either the face of Nicholas Cage or John Travolta’s character in the 1997 hit Faceoff (if you haven’t seen this movie, don’t go out of your way to see it). Other than that little setback, I was doing ok. I was in a severe amount of pain at this time as I broke a few teeth but at least I didn’t break my jaw although it did feel that way.

To me, the chin hole looked like something I could just put some pressure on and fall asleep and wake up to laugh about the whole thing. Thank goodness Blair his girlfriend, Kristina were there. They advised me I should probably get it looked at. I eventually agreed. My friend (who woke up only after the events unfolded), Blair, and myself hopped in his car and took a trip to the Toronto General Hospital.

I don’t know if it was my journalistic instinct or the possible concussion talking, but the first thing that came into my mind was, “get the camera.” My reasoning was: how often do you get a chance to go to the hospital with an injury. I wanted to make the most of the situation. Blair agreed to bring his Nikon D200, his photography skills and an iron stomach to document the evening.

We had a pretty smooth ride over to the hospital. We did make the mistake of going to the children’s hospital first though…The children’s hospital and Toronto General are literally a street apart. I saw a sign for the Emergency and assumed I was in the right place. I went into the Children’s hospital and realized I couldn’t get passed the security guard that didn’t believe me when I said I was 12. I was directed to the “big peoples hospital” next door.

(Trying to make myself look as rough as I can while showing off my vitals. Look closely at my chin.)

(The hospital didn't think I lost enough blood so they took just a little bit more for good measures.)

I went in with Blair and after a short wait, I was in a gown resting comfortably on a hospital bed. I was hooked up to a machine to make sure my insides were ok. Everything seemed alright. I had “normal sinus rhythm” in my ticker with a little bit of a “rightward axis”. 88BPM, that might seem a little high, but this I blame on my “white coat syndrome”. For those not familiar with the term, it means I am afraid of doctors and being in any sort of medical building. This condition always gets me into heat with my actual doctor who always assume I have high blood pressure. Try explaining to someone that you’re scared of them…to them. It’s not that easy. I always just say I will lay off the mayonnaise. Anyway, my blood test came back fine too. According to the hospital documents, my provisional diagnosis was I had a: vasovagal episode. I was told to sit tight and wait for someone to stitch me up. I guess putting pressure on the wound was no longer an option. I tried to make the most of the wait and tried to keep Blair entertained. I am sure there were other places he would have rather been than sitting in a hospital next to my while I bled all over myself and complained how my teeth felt sharper. I did things like trying to see how quickly I could get my heart to beat. I was hooked up to a heart monitor at this point and began to shake around in the bed. After that cardiovascular experiment, I was tired of being hooked up to the machine so I took off some of the sticky things on my chest that were listening to my heart. One of the lines on the monitor went flat. Oh wait…now the hospital thinks I am dead. Funny thing is, no one really ran in to check on me.

After a few hours, a young nurse came into the room and after a quick glance, decided I would need a few stitches. I accepted my prognosis and buckled up for a ride. Blair did the same. Even as an experienced photographer, I looked over and saw him looking a little paler than usual. When I saw the pictures after, I realized why.

(Behold! This is what it looks like inside of my face.)

The nurse agreed to allow us to take pictures of the procedure and was in good spirits with us the whole time. She was really nice too. I even thought that as she jabbed a needle full of narcotics into my face. She started to jab around the wound, then in the wound, then really into the wound until the needle was pretty close to the inner area of my skull (at least that’s what it felt like).

(Me with a needle sticking out of my face)

(I figured if my eyes were closed, it would be harder for me to cry.)

Things got numb pretty quick and at this point, I couldn’t feel a thing. She gave it a few moments to fully freeze while she prepped herself with the stitches. I could feel her pulling the pieces of skin on my chin together as she put the stitches in. I could feel the tugs on my face each time she pulled the needle through my skin. It was a weird feeling but not as painful as I thought. Within 20 minutes, my chin was no longer open and everything was put away. I signed a few papers and she told me I was free to go. I popped on my top and walked out of the hospital room. Before I left, I did try and get some pancakes that I could smell being made but I wasn’t invited to the hospital E.R. breakfast.

(I should use this as my Christmas card next year)

(No wait, this will be my Christmas card photo. And to clarify, I was making a face at this point)

(Giving Blair the thumbs up)

(Not a bad job closing up that gash.)

With my newly formed chin and my buddy at my side, I walked out of the hospital feeling a little more manly than I did when I walked in. Next on the docket for that day: get my teeth fixed. Sadly, this wasn’t nearly as exciting as getting stitched up, so unfortunately there are no pictures of this.

A special thanks though to the staff, doctors and nurses at the Toronto General Hospital for being so cool. And a special thanks to my roommate Blair for being there for me, and to his girlfriend Kristina for cleaning up my pool of blood in the hallway. She did miss a spot though. No lie. If you’re ever in my apartment, look near the baseboard across from the washroom. Ya. It’s dry blood.