Broken Blood Vessels On Shoulder Novels & Stories

Dull and ancient, it radiated an aura of mysterious stillness. She sank onto the cold stone, a wave of dizziness washing over her. A jolt of agony shot through her left shoulder, a sharp, insistent throb radiating down her arm. Ignoring the biting wind, Riana focused on her battered body. Her clumsy fingers fumbled with the zipper of her torn jacket. She grimaced at the sight of blood seeping through the cloth, she surely will get an infection. The gash was a little bit too deep it was still raw and bleeding.

Everyone could see it now—I had this in the bag. Vincent lifted his fist again and went for my face. I was ready. I was going to flip him one more time and end the game. But just as his punch grazed past me. Suddenly, pain exploded across my shoulder. “Ah!” I cried out, stumbling back, and quickly looked down. A long, deep gash—at least ten inches—split open across my shoulder. Blood gushed down my arm, splattering the mat. What the fucking hell? How could a punch cut me?

"Pulse is spiking at one-ninety! His oxygen saturation is plummeting, eighty-two and dropping! The lower rib fragment shifted during the shot. We’ve got a partial pneumothorax!" A collapsed lung. The horrific words hung in the freezing air like a death sentence. The paramedics didn't waste another millisecond. They sliced away his shoulder pads with rapid, practiced efficiency, exposing the thick, rigid wraps encasing his broad torso. The pristine white medical fabric over his sixth and seventh ribs was already blooming with a dark, terrifying pool of fresh blood where the broken bone had punctured the surrounding soft tissue from the shear force of his winning shot.

She opened her eyes, feeling a sharp pain radiating from her right shoulder, neck, and right arm. Shattered glass from the window lay scattered across the floor. She took cautious steps backward, fully soaked by the rain streaming through the broken frame. She felt a liquid dripping from her shoulder, wet from the rain. Sitting down on a nearby chair to check her arm and shoulder, her eyes widened. The liquid running down her skin wasn't rainwater as she had assumed—it was blood flowing from her wounds. Shards of glass from the broken window were still embedded in her flesh. The stinging pain was overwhelming. She lowered her head, staring at the drops of blood pooling on the floor.

Crash! A huge, freezing wall of black Atlantic water smashed into the side of our yellow rubber raft, slamming me face-first into the rusty iron base of the boarding ladder hooked to the container ship. The sharp steel edge tore into my shoulder, slicing through my soaked shirt and leaving a burning, stinging pain across my collarbone.

My shoulder was aching painfully. A loud growl ripped through the air, and I felt something push my attacker off me. I couldn't see but I could hear a fight going on. Biting, growling and the sounds of bones breaking. The smell of blood filled the air and then silence. I tried to sit up, but my neck and shoulder were burning up.

No signs of internal bleeding and no clotting in the veins that could result in pulmonary distress later. Damien didn’t take his eyes off her. He looked at every small or large dark blue bruise on her skin. Her arms had fingertip marks in sets of four. The broken rib area had a large blue bruise with some purple in it. Multiple cuts on her hip that she explained was from a ring on his finger that cut during punches.

I tried to push myself up with my left hand, completely forgetting about the IV line. ​A pain ripped through the back of my hand as the needle pulled against my vein. I fell back against the pillows. ​"Don't do that!" the nurse scolded sternly, quickly checking the IV line to ensure it hadn't torn through the skin. "You have a grade-three severe dislocation in that shoulder, a hairline fracture in your clavicle, and your muscles are essentially completely depleted. You aren't walking anywhere for at least a week. Lie still." ​"I can't lie still," My voice trembling as the panic began to completely consume me. I grabbed the nurse's wrist with my left hand. "Please. I have to know."

I​ cut the ex‌pensiv​e fabric away, revealing the dama​g‌e. Th‌e bulle⁠t had passed through th⁠e⁠ mea‍t of his shoulder. It was​ ugly, swollen, and oozing,‌ but it had missed the bon‍e and the art‍ery. His ch⁠est was a ma‌p of‍ purple b⁠ru‍ising fr⁠om‍ the fight. D‍r. Gallo arrive⁠d te‌n minu‍tes la‍ter, l​ooking like he had s​le‌pt i​n his clothe​s.

~ EVANGELINE ~ I woke up and my shoulder was screaming in pain even worse than yesterday. The cold cloth had fallen off during the night and my arm was swollen and bruised. I sat up slowly and bit my lip to keep from making noise. I was already late. Getting dressed with one hand took forever. Every movement hurt. In the bathroom mirror I saw the bruise spreading across my shoulder. It looked like an ugly dark shade of purple. I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt to cover it. Before I could make my way to the kitchen to make breakfast like I always do. A knock came in.