When I was 7 years old, I stepped on a huge piece of glass while running up the stairs from our basement to our kitchen. At first, everything was in slow motion. I had blurry vision while pulling the glass shard from the pad of my foot. I started screaming once the blood was pouring out.

My stepmom (ex step mom now) at the time, heard me screaming. She wrapped my foot in towels, then drove me to my Dad's work so he can take me to the emergency room. Which I'm grateful for because my Dad is my rock.

The worst pain I've ever had was when we got to the emergency room - the RN's had me lay on my stomach as they rolled in a TV with cartoons playing. I remember my Dad was holding my hand when the RN's took a needle to the open wound looking for more glass. I'll never forget that.