Have you ever been injured at school? What happened?
In second grade, before class was called to order, I demonstrated a "self defense" tactic to a friend.
"Take a swing at me," I said.
He did, and I ducked the blow.
And then came back up, squarely under the desk, my head impacting a metal arm on which the wood desk top was mounted.
It didn't hurt, really, but I could feel blood running from the wound; a warm stream running through my hair, and then over my face. I slapped my palm over the source, to stem the flow.
So, I thought maybe I should go the principal's office.
This I did.
But that meant climbing a flight of stairs.
On the way up, I removed my hand from my head, and a fountain of blood spurted into the air as I made my ascent. The other kids gave me wide berth on the stairs. Some screamed. Some actually threw up.
"Cool," I thought (before "cool" even meant "cool").
By the time I reached the office, Eileen Feiler (the principal) was already at her door, wondering about the screaming and commotion. She slapped tissues on my head, and instructed me to sit still and keep the tissues there. The school nurse was summoned, and she did her best with bandages.
My mother was summoned. She rushed me to the hospital, where the wound was cleaned, and 6 stitches applied to close the cut.
I went back to school that afternoon.
I received many questions and expressions of interest from my classmates.
All of whom maintained a careful distance.
Hope that helps.
Literally tripped over nothing and broke my left arm (clean break, where you would have your watch) in year two (I'm Australian, now in year 9). People surrounded the screaming child (me) and a few teachers came over. Didn't even call the fucking ambulance.
You know what they did?
Call my mum (at least she was a nurse at the time).
I was in the office, lying down on a few chairs, draping my arm off one side of of a chair in extreme pain.
Once my mum arrived, I had to hold my arm in the car (where the break was, it hurt less if I did this) until we arrived to the nearest x-ray place, which took 30 minutes or something, lay down on the thing to get x-rayed (with appropriate shielding of course), get whatever you needed to sign or something done, go to the hospital, wait another 40 minutes or something there and get a temporary cast.
About a week or something later I had that removed and I was operated on to reposition my arm because, as I said, it was a clean break so my arm was out of whack. I get better cast, my dad puts a transformers logo on it (yeah!) and then some days later I get a fibreglass covering to make it semi-waterproof (still had to use a plastic bag to cover it, it also covered the logo which was sad).
Some weeks later, cast comes off. I had to wrap a towel around it for a week because my muscles had become accustomed to counteracting the weight of the cast, so my arm felt like it was going to float away.
Didn't even get an ambulance ride, still annoyed about that >:(
I was 14, a freshman in high school at wrestling practice and we were doing takedown drills. I lost my cool and demanded to go again against a certain guy who I thought jumped the whistle. Well, he took me down again, but while I was being taken down, I put out my arm. We both landed on my left arm. I rolled onto my back and looked at my arm and there was a 30-degree bend between the wrist and the elbow. There was no pain and I didn't hear the sound that others told me they had heard when my arm broke. My opponent and the others in our group just stared, jaws on the floor. I called out to the coach and when he saw my arm he dismissed everyone from practice. Had the assistant coach (I think) call an ambulance and the office called my parents. At the hospital, they set my arm and I was out of school for a few days. When I returned, I experienced a brief period of notoriety as "the guy who broke his arm in wrestling practice."
Eighth grade being chased through the halls, I pushed open the door to the classroom and hurt my hand. That's an understatement!! The metal L shaped sign that teachers put in front of the door cut my hand from little finger to thumb. Blood was spewing everywhere and I could see my tendons and bones. They helped me hospital to get stitched up. Luckilythere was no damage to the working parts of my hand. I still have the scar 57 years later.