I don't know if I've ever mentioned it, but my students are protected by HIPAA so that is why I never talk about my job. I don't want to say anything I'm not allowed to talk about it. I DO need to add a couple more hits on my list of injuries.

1 Three Stooges style bonk to to the top of my head, served cold so I wouldn't be expecting it
1 punch to the jaw - didn't hurt too bad but hurt this morning when I washed my face
1 punch to the ear - directly after the punch to the jaw and that hurt really bad. REALLY. Don't get punched in the ear.

Also, a story.

This morning, after spending one and a half hours helping the CuzMate clean her room (we are still not close to anything that could be called "clean"), I went with Shannon, my other cousin, to her son's baseball game. I took Roxie because it was a nice day and we both needed to get a little vitamin D via the sun.
Roxie is not a violent dog. She doesn't bite people, but she is very interested and often sniffs people as they walk by. Sometimes kids are skittish and take a wide berth, but she's not going to snap them. She's never done a thing to hurt a child.
Anyway, after about 100 people pass by and about 20 kids have spent time petting her, a man comes around the corner. If I had seen him coming, I would have held the leash just because he looked mean. I didn't see him coming. Roxie runs out to give him a sniff, and he kicks her! She then growls and lunges at him, but I pull her back before anything else happens.

Man: Who's dog is that"
Me: She's mine. I'm sorry! (I am apologizing for him kicking my dog, I guess.)
Man: Well, you're luck I didn't kick her G** D*** head off.
Me: Wow. Okay
Other people in vicinity: That kind of language isn't necessary. There are children around.
Man: I don't give a S***. D*** dog shouldn't be here. Blah, blah, blah.
Other people who are now enraged: You are out of order. There is no need to talk like that, especially with children around. And that dog weighs about 10 pounds, big man.
Man: [more cuss words]

Then a mom I know leaves to go tell the manager of the ball field about what is going on. Man sits behind us spitting in a cup.
About 20 minutes later, I noticed Roxie is bleeding from her back leg. Just a scratch, but that got me madder then a wet hen.

P.S. This man weighed about 250 and was wearing overalls and rubber boots.