Hi All,
I thought I'd put up a funny story. Well off subject but funny all the same.
Well actually it wasn't so funny at the time.
I was at work on my own one Monday morning back in November. I was sectioning a gearbox as a training aid. It got to about 3 in the afternoon and I went into the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat.
As I went in I spotted a mouse in the cabinet that I have been trying to catch for weeks so I thought right I've got you now as I closed the glass sliding doors on the cupboard.
Now what am I going to do I thought...I know I'll gas the beggar with fly spray. So I open the door a bit and filled the cupboard with a good burst and shut it again.
I waited a while and it didn't seem to be bothered by it and just sat there looking at me.
I then wondered....is fly spray flammable? I'll find out, so I sprayed a bit on the tiles and lit it. Oh yes it was very flammable.
Ok I thought if I can't gas it I'll burn it out.
I cracked the door open a bit and filled the cupboard once again with a good squirt of fly spray, took my lighter and lit it.
BOOM It felt like someone had kicked my arm and my fingers went tingly... F**king hell I thought that went well. I quickly realised the cupboard doors had blown out and I had been hit by the shock wave.
Almost immediately I saw blood running off my fingers and thought Oh Shit this isn't good.
I stood up and managed to take my overalls off and tried to pull my sweat shirt off but a sharp pain shot up my arm and I felt something sharp under my sleeve. I realised then that I must have glass stuck in my arm. I started to panic a bit seeing the blood running and called my boss to get a driver down to me as soon as possible.
I knew it would take a minimum of 30 minutes for him to get there and then who knew how long to the nearest hospital.
I calmed myself down and said to myself I am the only one here so do something about it.
I raised my arm and felt the blood then running inside my shirt. I grabbed my memory stick and wrapped the lanyard around my arm above the wound and pulled it tight with my one good hand and teeth.
I grabbed some shop rags and used them to contain the blood pool that was by now filling the sweat shirt sleeve. I thought as I'm leaving this place I have to secure it and turn off the power. So I closed down the computers and turned off the heater all the time with my injured arm in the air.
The rags were not up to it so I pulled a plastic bag from the waste bin and put my elbow in it the best I could.
I finally switched of the power and got the cash box and my pistol outside ready for the driver to arrive. I checked the keys were with me and locked up my vehicle.
I started to feel a little light headed by now and leaned on the vehicle for support. I could hear the door open alarm going as I tried to check my pulse. The door alarm kept making me lose count so I walked around the corner of the building and tried again. I realised my pulse was fast and erratic, first shallow and then banging away so I knew this was not a good sign.
My boss kept calling every few minutes asking how I was. After one call I thought damn I should have told him my blood group as I'm bound to need some. I called him back and told him to call the hospital and tell them to prepare some B negative.
My eyes wanted to close but i knew I had to stay awake. I walked a bit and then sat on one of the vehicle ramps my head nodding, trying all the time to hold up the injured arm.
Finally I heard a vehicle approaching and saw the company land cruiser coming toward me. I got up and staggered to the workshop doors and snapped on the padlock in readiness to leave.
The afghan driver I knew spoke very little English so I indicated to him what my problem was by tapping the wind screen (glass) and indicating into my arm. He grabbed my bag and pistol and opened the cruiser door for me. As he got in the drivers seat I said "Doctor Teshco" in my best Dari meaning "Doctor Hurry"
As we left the technical site the traffic as usual was heavy and uncontrolled. The road surface was bumpy but I again told him to hurry. Being a security vehicle, thankfully it had a siren and I told him to switch it on. It made little difference but some vehicles did let us through and the odd traffic cop helped the best they could.
What seemed like forever we eventually arrive at a local Afghan hospital but by this time I didn't care if it was a veterinary surgery.
I hauled myself from the vehicle and staggered towards the entrance where I was stopped by the security guard going off in dari. I gave him a few choice words in his own language which must have impressed him as he indicated for me to go in. I just stood there with blood dripping from my now heavy sweat shirt asking for a plastic bag so that I didn't mess up the floor or disturb anyone there waiting. I remember watching the blood slowly pooling in the plant pot beside the doors. Eventually someone gave me a bin bag and I walked inside. Someone indicated I should go to reception and then they saw my predicament and ushered me to the emergency room. I was told to wait. The room had 6 or 7 people in there none of which offered me a seat they were sat on. I must have staggered a bit as the doctor looked up and told his operative to get me on the bed. Still no sense of panic in the room just eyes staring at the foreigner in their midst. I kicked off my shoes and laid back, it felt so good to lie down, I shook my head to bring me back to my senses, I knew I could not sleep. I felt cool but I was starting to perspire and shiver. Shock I thought, I need blood NOW. My heart was banging against my chest as I told the "nurse" what I thought. Why are they not checking my blood pressure I thought it must be obvious what is happening here. An operative appeared and indicated for me to remove my shirt. I indicated back that I could not and did the scissor sign with my fingers telling him to cut it off. He got a pair and I held the shirt while he cut it off. I looked away as he got close to the object in my arm, I did not want to see it. He had placed a waste bin beside the bed and the pool of blood in my sweat shirt gushed into it. I had a quick peak and saw that not only had glass gone into my arm, it had gone through and out the other side. I was surprised to see that it was only by now slowly seeping blood from the exit side. Anyway he cleaned it all up around the glass and applied a makeshift bandage. Still no BP check, what the hell. I laid back and tried to relax but all the time thinking I don't want to die here but I was strangely calm about it. I had a very numb ache in my arm, nothing more than that, the bed was soft and I felt warm again.
Next thing I knew my driver was telling me to get up and follow him to a room. Where now I thought, should I not be going to the Operating Room. He led me into an empty ward and left me. I sat on another bed and waited. An operative appeared and gave me light brown pyjamas to put on and left me alone again. ok I thought this is going to be fun, getting changed with one hand but I managed it and the doctor appeared all masked up and said "ok, let's go" I followed him a short distance into the OR, thinking don't they have wheelchairs or trolleys here.
I lay on the bed and he poured iodine all over my arm which stung a tad and rubbed it around the protruding glass. I remember thinking I hope he's going to anesthetise me so I asked him. He said oh yes but just a local one. I didn't like that idea, watching him pull that thing out so when I sensed he was going to start I looked away as he injected me several times.
All I felt was a little tugging and pushing when he said that's it and showed me the glass was out. I never felt a thing. He then started to knead the gapping wounds and released some impressive sized blood clots which obviously let the bleeding begin again. He was soon in there with swaps and sorted that out. I then watched him put a couple of stitches into each side and bind it up with a thick bandage. He told me I was to stay in overnight as I was in shock. "No shit sherlock, you think so" I thought. I walked back to the ward when an operative finally deemed to take my BP. which was apparently a bit low. I wonder why. He hooked me up to a saline IV and dug around with a needle in my arm until he finally got it in the right place and started it flowing. After 15 minutes or so I started to feel human again, like I was being re-inflated almost. A good time to bring me the bill they thought. I was $400 dollars lighter when the doctor came in and rechecked my BP and said I could go home as I was fine. I must admit I did feel a bit better than I had earlier and didn't fancy staying there to be honest. All I had was blood stained trousers and an overcoat but I was good to go in no time. As I was leaving the pharmacist gave me some pain killers, antibiotics and some iron tablets. Then he gave me a bottle of saline and an IV line to take with me. Great I thought, we all have IV hooks next to our beds but I took it anyway as I wanted to leave by now.
I fashioned a hook out of a wire coat hanger and eventually got 3/4 of the stuff into me before I felt really tired after all that and went to bed.
I was up and ready for work by 06:45 but was told I was to stay and work in the house. Not what I had expected mind, I had expected my boss to say stay in your room, have a day off but not him.
I called my missus, Ann, and told her the story and eventually got to the $400 bit and she said "$400 to kill a mouse? I said shouldn't you have said something like "$400 to save my life?" "oh yeah" she said.
Eventually it came to Thursday night, my arm was still rather sore and bruised but it was Friday the next day and a day off at last. My boss called me and seemed to be put out by the fact I left work just after 5 (my official finishing time) as it didn't show dedication to duty!
It's a good thing for him my right arm was still sore and I am a placid type of guy.
Sorry it was a bit long winded but interesting you have to admit.
Check out the offending item below with a fag packet for scale. I couldn't have made a better arrow head and with a barb as well. Good job he pulled it out sharp end first or that barb may have caused more damage.
I've had better days
(http://s1.postimage.org/19zbeetj8/Glass_2.jpg) (http://postimage.org/image/19zbeetj8/)
'kin 'ell Chris, you'll never get a job with Rentokill.
On the one hand you have only yourself to blame BUT on the other your boss seems like a slave driver. Compassion not his strong point obviously.
My glass/blood story involves a tiny fragment from a TV tube which I had just imploded. Boy do they make a cracking implosion when hit by a stone at 20 paces. Anyway I slipped and but as I was wearing heavy duty gloves, put my hand down to break the fall. My arm jarred a bit and the sensation was like hitting your funny bone. Moments later I raised my hand to scratch my nose only to have my arm soaked in a pool of blood which had accumulated in the glove. I removed the glove and observed a spurting of blood from my palm beautifully synchronised with my heartbeat. The guys put me in the van and drove me to the nearest surgery about 1/2 mile away arm held high out of the van window and fist clenched to compress the entry point. Upon entering the surgery the receptionist calmly announced that as I was not registered there I must first fill in a form. This is not easy on a slippery formica surface with one hand pouring blood all over their floor. At this point one of the GPs emerged, assessed the situation from a medical rather than administrative point of view and whisked me away to examine and stitch the wound. He reckoned it was not worth giving me a local for such a small stitch job. The glass going in wasn't sore but the stitching was bloody sore.
BTW did you ever find the remains of your 4 legged adversary?
I never did see if I'd killed the little devil but if not it'd certainly be deaf as it was quite a bang.
I wish now I'd used my 9mm pistol but I thought that was a little overboard for such a harmless creature. :minigun:
7.62 would have been much more apt IMHO
Lmao,what an adventure, me i would have giving it a medal for surviving in such a place rather than kill it. et that taught you though to live and let live hahaha
I've just had a thought. If indeed it was a Taliban mouse perhaps it was loaded with explosives, concealed under it's furry coat. You merely thought it was well fed. Your minor explosion simply acted as a detonator for the larger explosion which the mouse was obviously planning anyway. Thank goodness it wasn't an indoctrinated rat.
I'd be very suspicious of any rodents around camp from now on, especially the ones with bulging coats. :o
I`d be much more afraid of those camel spiders, heard some nasty things about them :(
This has got to be the funniest things i have read for ages, thank you Chris for sharing it and the comments are brill cheers guys
dizzy :D
:o :o :o :o
And I thought my having surgery in a Greek hospital made for a cringeworthy anecdote....
So come on Colonel share it. I'm sure we'd love to hear it.
Chris - Like I said, not much to recount really....especially not next to yours! But since you ask...
It happened in the early 90s when me and the then gf (now Lady Blink) were travelling around Europe on a pair motorcycles. We had decided to winter on Crete, fruit picking. Yours truly ended up with agonising pains in my elbow, which Staff Nurse Blinktobe diagnosed as Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (when the nerves in the wrist stick to the bone). With minimal insurance (like just an E111) we ran the gauntlet of the Xania Hospital Outpatients Clinic which involved leaping into a scrum to be the next in every time a certain door opened.
Having been 'offically' diagnosed with CTS (SRN Blinktobe took a bow) I was given an appointment for surgery with Dr Yurgo Papadopapapalopapoppalous. On arrival at the hospickle I was directed to a corridor where I was told to strip and leave my clothes on a table and get on a trolley. I think. I spoke no Greek, they spoke no English and Lady Blinktobe had b@ggered off to drink coffee and wander on the beach whilst I was under the knife of a Greek madman. Her parting shot was "If they try to put you under – leave. I'm not impressed with their recovery room procedures". How I would stop them I was never sure.
So I lay on the trolley in a back corridor for half an hour with only an operating gown on, wondering why people passing would look at me and giggle. Having rearranged the folds of the gown, the giggling lessened but passsersby onviously still found it as odd as I to be laying on a trolley in a partially lit corridor with my clothes flung in a corner.
Finally Dr Yurgo Papadopapapalopapoppalous arrived and jovially greeted me in broken English and smelling of espresso and dressed in operating smock with very hygienic excessive body hair sprouting from around his clothing. I was pushed into an operating theatre where my arm was bound in a rubber bandage pulled as tight as possible by two members of the Cretan Olympic Sumo Wresting and Sweat team. This was Yurgo told me 'to get the blood out'. Nice. It also gave my arm the silhouette of a Belsen victim which as I am 13st was most odd. They then put an inflatable tourniquet on my upper arm & jabbed me with a local, and all trooped out laughing in Greek. 15 mins later they were all back, having been fortified with copious Espesso and Greek cigarettes, and one then completely covered me with a blanket. I was about to yell 'I'm not dead yet' but happily, the corner of the sheet was lifted and clipped to a stand and my rubberised arm was pulled out from under the sheet and supported on a side table (probably with an ashtray built in). They removed the rubber bandage and set to. I felt my wrist exposed and then an 'opening' feeling as my wrist was sliced open (longitudinally down my arm) in one sweep from just before the wrist 'bands' to the centre of my palm.
Yurgo jumped slightly, and they all laughed and cheered. I was told later that there had been a small(!?) spurt of blood which had gone onto the floor... There was then the curious scraping and crunching sensation which conducted its way through my whole skeleton as the bones in my wrist were cut back to give the nerves more room. By now I was looking the other way (not that I could see) and another set of doors burst open and another surgeon passed through on his way out. He had an apron on which was literally dripping with blood, and before the doors swung shut I could see a rather disturbing view of a woman with her feet in stirrups presumably part way through hip replacement surgery. This surgeon stood in the corridor, and every time the door to the corridor opened (which it did frequently), I could see him having a fag....
After about 45 mins(?)Yurgo Papadopapapalopapoppalous got his sewing kit out before pronouncing the operation a success. They set the tourniquet to deflate slowly and automatically, took their sheet und rubber bandage and b@ggered off, leaving me alone to try and avoid looking through the swing doors every time the other surgeon came out for his ten minutely fag break. A cleaner came in and chatted to me in Greek as she mopped up my blood. I didn't understand her, but I answered her in English, which she didn't understand but found most amusing – perhaps the gown had ridden up again. Finally, Yurgo came back in, felt the tourniquet and whipped it off, leading to a drop in blood pressure as my arm filled up, and everything swam and echoed and I thought I was going to throw up. He bought me a drink of water, helped me off the trolley and pointed down the corridor to my clothes. I changed in the corridor and let myself out.
I made my way to the caff where I had arranged to meet Lady Blinktobe, but it turned out she'd 'got bored of waiting' and had returned to the campsite, such was her concern for my wellbeing.
But unlike you Chris, I am still waiting for the bill.....
Chris I laughed so hard at that. The little mouse caused a trip to the hospital LOL!
Oh and Blinky that is typical Greek eh :)
Sheldon
Lmao, Blinky, that made me think that the NHS isnt that bad afterall :)
Quote from: Coyote on July 26, 2011, 11:42:33 AM
Lmao, Blinky, that made me think that the NHS isnt that bad afterall :)
You've obviously not placed yourself (in particular your tender parts) in the hands of the surgeons at Aberdeen Royal Infirmary who insisted on commencing the operation before the local anaesthetic had a chance to work.
:o
It's a long and wince inducing story benefitting from the telling over several whiskys. Suffice it to say I was pleased that Swann Morton make extremely sharp scalpel blades.
;)
Actually, I don't see what all this NHS trouble is about. Its probably, as usual, just the press getting bored and being dicks again.
Yesterday I managed to cut my hand with the prop on my wing. Didn't hurt but when I looked down there was a rather large gash along the top of my hand. Bugger. The problem was, as it didn't hurt, is that we'd have to go to hospital, and miss dinner and I wouldn't be able to fly (it was dark by the time we got back :( ). Anyway we go to the hospital, me shit scared of getting stitches, and sat down in A&E, planning to wait there for hours. 5 minutes later I got called in and they put that tape on the cut and all is well.
The Nurse said it was so quick as before the regulations were that you would have to have 2 doctors and so on, but for minor things Nurses can sort it.
So what is actually wrong with the NHS? (Or am I just being naive and stupid, as usual?)
Sheldon
lol Sheldon, you can't really evaluate the functioning of the NHS if your entire experience involved them sticking a plaster on your finger, pmsl :o :o ;D ;D ;D
Lol Sheldon, you didnt even need butterfly stitches ROFL. Thats we have to wait 6 hours to be seen. Nurses looking for plasters lol
Its you being naive, not so long ago people were going in for simple treatments and coming out with MRSA. Now its Saline contamination !
Human 0 - 1 Mouse
Seriously!? Flammable gas inside a confined area being lit! What were you expecting man!? :+
Mmm Bar-B-Q mouse?
You probably won't believe me when I tell you I instruct in H&S.
One thing I tell my students is that there is no such thing as an accident, just a moments lack of thought or sheer stupidity. I reckon that could have been a bit of both on my part. :+
Quote from: GaryB on August 07, 2011, 03:28:25 PM
Human 0 - 1 Mouse
Seriously!? Flammable gas inside a confined area being lit! What were you expecting man!? :+
Homemade Potato Cannon! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcJcONi2BoU#)
:D
-Angelos