I have been waiting to hear back from Medicaid for months, doing my best to remain uninjured until my coverage begins. In the meantime, the following household activities are clearly far too dangerous, so if you need a light bulb changed or a glass washed, I'm sorry but I'm unable to help..
Using a mandoline: From what I've gathered, trips to the emergency room are just a fact of life for mandoline users. My mandoline is much more low-key that the infamous finger-slicers, but I will be avoiding it nonetheless.
Changing a lightbulb: Standing on a chair, reaching overhead, fiddling with electricity? No, thank you. If enough bulbs burn out that the risk of darkness-related injuries increases, we can wear the headlamps my parents got us for Christmas.
Opening cupboard/medicine cupboard doors: Does everyone hit their head hard on open cupboard doors, all the time? I don't know how I do it, but door-related head injuries happen frequently and will surely send me to the doctor eventually. The cupboards shall all remain closed until further notice.
Traversing stairs: I've never fallen down the stairs — though I have fallen up the stairs — but I live in fear. It's a really long way to fall, handrails are frequently inadequate, the stairs are sometimes inexplicably carpeted, and I'm often carrying something. If I were to tumble down a flight of stairs and land on the case of wine I was carrying down the basement, I assume the consequences would be serious and expensive. From now on, I dwell exclusively on the main floor, basement-related tasks be damned.
Using glassware: I am renowned for my glass-dropping and -breaking abilities- it's like they just fall out of my hand! At some point I'm going to cut myself badly either cleaning up the broken glass or stepping on a shard hours/days later. Travel mug it is, for the foreseeable future.
Using a gas stove: I used to have an old-fashioned gas stove with an oven that you had to light each time and one time, unbeknownst to me, it was already filled with gas when I stuck a lit match in and a fireball exploded in my face so I shan't be doing anything like that for a while.
Shoveling snow: I'd like to think we're done with snow for the season, but April snow is never out of the question around here. If we do get some Easter fluff, I won't be touching it with a 10-foot pole with a shovel attached because shoveling equals heart attacks, according to this Slate article I skimmed.
Mowing the lawn/raking leaves: See above.
(Image credits: Esthera & Gus's "Not Actually A Deathtrap" Bohemian Abode)