Stories: Injuries
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Ok testicular stories. I'll name no names but anyone who was at Motueka High School 20 or so years ago will know exactly who I'm talking about.
The young lad in question had his misfortune occur one lunchtime while messing around the school pool. In summer it was open slather at the pool for students during the lunch break so on hot days it was a pretty popular place to hang out.
Anyway teenage boys being as they are are fairly prone to show off - especially when there are girls around - so fun and hijinks on the diving board were very common.
(anyone see where this is going?)
So imagine the scene. It's a blazing hot summer's day and our young man is doing his best to impress on the dive board. Unfortunately while attempting a maneuveur, which involved a double jump and bounce, his footing slipped and instead of landing on the diving board he came down straddling it with an almighty crunch.
Witnesses to this day swear they also heard a gentle popping sound.
There he sat ever so briefly in a twisted rictus of pain. But uttering not a sound. Then ever so gently he toppled sideways off the diving board and (maintaining the same pained sitting position) fell straight to the bottom of the pool.
There he lay unmoving for several seconds - though I suspect it seemed far longer to him - before others realising his predicament dived in and plucked him to safety.
Unfortunately the angle of his connection with the diving board had been such that he'd crushed a testicle and ruptured his nutsack. It was no wonder he never moved while lying at the bottom of the pool. One suspects drowning would have been much more pleasurable than the agony he was enduring.
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Felix,
YOOWWW!
That one gets my vote for best/worst.
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YOOWWW!
That one gets my vote for best/worst.
Let me hasten to point out it was not me. My injury moments are much more mundane.
Though there was one very bad month of May back in 1991 when I did break a wrist. The problem being I was never quite sure which accident was responsible.
Was it the drunken fall down a very steep flight of stairs? It could have been the horse that kicked me, but equally it could have been the car accident where I had a penetrating encounter with a windscreen. (That was definitely the cause of a scalp laceration).
Of course it could have also been the tree that fell on me (no joke) while I was teaching a bunch of Japanese holiday-makers how to ride,
It was a hectic three weeks. :-)
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Felix, that was brilliantly told (the nutcracking tale) - and I laughed out loud, sad as it is, and as much as it probably hurt the poor bugger. Thanks for sharing another's pain so eloquently!
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When I was six we had to bring a lemon squeezer to school so we could make 'invisible ink' for some project we were doing. Whilst most people have a plastic lemon squeezer, our family had one made of glass. Very solid, very heavy.
So Mum dropped me off at school in the morning and about ten paces from the car I managed to trip over, drop the lemon squeezer, and slice off a significant chunk of my palm in the process. It flapped open like when you half bite an apple and it hinges on the peel. Even at six I knew to close the wound and hold it tightly together (instinct I guess).
Mum had already driven off for the dairy to get another pack of Rothmans so I had to take myself to Sick Bay where they really freaked out. Off to a local doctor (not hospital) where they stiched it up. As a child the gash cut my palm in half (in a semi circle), but now as an adult I'm left with a very small crescent scar at the bottom of my palm - about the size of the old 50¢ piece.
Being the 70's I was left with a 'Frankenstein' scar -- y'know, the one where the cross-stitching is completely visible. Back then they used what seemed to be nylon fishing line, and when the stitches were ready to 'come out' they'd snip the seams and pull out each stitch with tweezers. Nice.
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Felix, that was brilliantly told (the nutcracking tale) - and I laughed out loud, sad as it is, and as much as it probably hurt the poor bugger. Thanks for sharing another's pain so eloquently!
Cheers for that.
Though I suspect I have just reinforced every stereotype about the ability of journalists to delight in the misery of others.
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Those who fail to learn the lessons of history are in for a repeat.
My learning leads me to the following, in no particular order:
When flies lay eggs in your head the maggots come out of a horrible pussy hole.
Ski boots are not great mountaineering equipment on ice in high winds. The flip side of this is that it is possible to fall off a ridge in the Souther Alps and escape unscathed.
Wheel chairs with small front wheels should not be ridden at speed down potholed hills. Two up is especially lethal.
and as Emma says, all the above dedicated to Haywood and his GPs.
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Felix wrote:
Let me hasten to point out it was not me. My injury moments are much more mundane.
Yeah, but its the way you tell 'em, as that pommie comedian used to say.
Your description of the ball popping had me wimpering with a mix of horrified laughter and sympathy pain.
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We are retired. My husband has always been a dare devil of sorts, but Ive felt over the last 5 or so years that had passed.
We live in Paradise, on the edge of one of NZs most beautiful harbours. We own a quad bike. In February he took us for a ride through the sand dunes. I was looking over his shoulder, saw the road go from accessible for a quad to accessible for a motorbike.
I said ohh sh&*! He giggled, as the right side of the bike started to topple to the left. I shut my eyes (as you do) as we fell, thrown from the bike I went face first into the dirt. Thinking as the bike fell on me, that wasnt as heavy as I thought it would be! Listening to him and the bike roll down the wee hill, him saying OUCH F^%& OUCH F^&%!!!!! A&E took 6 hours, ACC coughed up. Now he has a totally severed tendon, the one that lifts the left arm, refuses to have an op, as many have told him of the pain and it taking a year for it to become even partially useful.
Rides down the beach now are far more sedate now :) -
Shaz,
I am a long time patron of New Zealand's most dangerous sport. I've had the odd brusie/concussion etc, but my worst injury was couple of months ago - playing social friggen netball. Being a bit enthusiastic with the defence I jumped, landed, and you know that sound effect on the cereal ads where the stupid jock is destroying a mouthful of nutrigrain... well my knee kinda made that noise. I made a slightly more offensive noise. Or series of noises. After trying to stand up and establishing that my knee was, as the doctor later said, 'rogered' 2 of my team-mates figured that the best way to get me back to the office was to carry me, each taking one arm/leg (a shoulder ride was mooted, but we decided that would just look silly). Made interesting viewing for others walking down Lambton Quay at lunchtime.
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Shaz,
OTOH, the funniest injury I've seen was probably little sister on an out of control horse... he came charging down the hill (clay surface/raining) towards home and then stopped suddenly with about 20metres hill left. Little sister was catapulted, landing head/face first on wet clay. Because of the speed at which she hit the ground, she head/face skated the rest of the way down the hill, stopping abruptly when her helmet hit a tree stump. Oh how we laughed. Although the tree stump did break the helmet.
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glad it all ended with a chuckle for your sister, Shaz ...
... a similar accident didn't work out so funny for Christopher Reeves. Yikes - horses scare the bejesus out of me.
{apologies if I'm bringing the party down}
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horses scare the bejesus out of me.
While horses don't scare me they've certainly been responsible for a fair few ACC claims as far as I'm concerned.
On the plus side it means I can detect a Southerly about 4 hours before anyone else
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Shaz,
My apologies, didn't mean to make light of Reeves. And yes I think they're responsible for more ACC claims than any other sport, hence them being labelled most dangerous sport in NZ. Bastards. Although there's no point in being scared of them, beyond the standard respect for anything 10x your size. I'm more scared of quad bikes ;) I guess you had to be there. We had to hose her down to get the clay dreadlocks out of her hair.
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I can detect a Southerly about 4 hours before anyone else
What do you mean, Felix? I am just curious.
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What do you mean, Felix? I am just curious.
There are not many benefits to be had from having various bones broken multiple times. However the old wive's tale about old breaks twinging before a cold spell rings true for me.
Just call me the weather whisperer - actually weather whinger would probably be more apt
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The Injury That Ruined My Career as a Rock Star Before it Even Began
I was in the 2nd XV in the six form. At practice one afternoon early in the season, during a tackling drill, I thought I'd tackle our captain before he even caught the ball -- just for a lark.
I did, chuckling as we went down. But taken by surprise, the captain fell awkwardly, and his weight came down on my left wrist, forcing the hand back and sideways. I telled out and then sat up to see a wrist that just looked bad. The coach drew breath, then told me to go over to the tap and run cold water on it for as long as I could stand it. (This turned out to be good advice.)
There was clearly little prospect of me riding my bike home, so I went over to the staffroom, showed off my injury to a couple of teachers who were still there and called my mum, to say I'd sprained my wrist and could she please come and pick me up.
To her eternal embarrassment, she was unsympathetic and unwilling to come and get me. I had to tell her in very strong terms that she was coming. Her lack of sympathy was wholly out of character, and when she arrived and saw my arm, she was extremely remorseful.
So off we went to the hospital, where an x-ray revealed a reasonably bad break -- a couple of the bones in my wrist had been crushed together. I got a cast the next day, and wore it for the duration, but I was never sent to physio.
As a result that wrist has never been right since. In particular, curling what was supposed to be my fretting hand around a guitar neck was painful. In the age of punk rock, when anyone could pick up a guitar, I could not even learn to play.
But don't be sad. If I'm to be honest, the major obstacle to guitar stardom for me was not a broken wrist, but a singular lack of musical talent. FFS, I was reduced to impotent frustration trying to play the recorder in primary school. It wouldn't have turned out well.
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Shaz,
Back in the day my mother and uncle shared a pony. He didn't particuarly like horses. Notwithstanding this, one day he chose to score some piss off points by staying on the horse so mother couldn't have a ride. Knowing he wasn't the bravest, she picked up a bit of nikau palm and started waving it round to scare the horse so that he'd get scared and get off.
It worked quite well - the horse crapped itself and dropped my uncle, who landed badly and proceeded to make a racket. Mother gave him her favourite toy so he wouldn't tell their mother exactly what happened.
So they both went inside, but my grandmother was busy with guests and sent my uncle to his room for being disruptive. She felt bad later when she went to check on him and found a pale shaking boy with a funny shaped arm. He can still play guitar but I haven't seen him ride a horse lately. -
reduced to impotent frustration trying to play the recorder in primary school. It wouldn't have turned out well.
Don't be so sure: playing recorder at primary school could drive__anyone__ to despair. I'd pay good money for footage of Sid V or Johnny R tootling in primer three....
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My apologies, didn't mean to make light of Reeves.
No need to apologise at all Shaz, for it was I who was being tasteles for mentioning it (and deliberately so, which is worse).
Speaking of injuries, my ego is badly bruised since I poured my heart out at the bottom of Page 4 and no-one responded. But I guess that's what happens when you have the bad luck to be the last post on a page and everyone skips to the new page.
And I bet I've done it again! D'oh!
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playing recorder at primary school could driveanyone to despair.
Are they still doing this? It can't be good for the kids or the teachers.
I'm pretty sure I'm not the first to suggest this, but is there any other instrument that kids could learn that's cheap and easy? The ukelele???
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I think Mike Chunn is advocating for the uke. It'd be a great move. Not only is the recorder a moderately difficult and dead-end instrument (sorry clarinetistes all!) but while you don't have to tune it, it's very rare to get a whole bunch of recorders that actually are in reasonable tune with each other. Never bothered me :-) but for a music teacher of my aquaintance with very good pitch it is torture.
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NI: ouch for you. At least now you've got interesting hands?
Me, I've been lucky to avoid breaking any limbs - although I apparently had a curious fascination with drinking gargle and eating my grandmother's sleeping tablets when about 3...
Worst accident in the close family was a cuz from the 'rapa. Despite being warned repeatedly to stay off the three-wheeler motorbike, she decided at age 13 to take the two next door neighbour kids out for a blat. Well, fortunately the two neighbours got thrown off, but cuz was not so lucky. A few flips later and she ended up with the bike on her head and her nose hanging on by a thread. She's ok now and you can't really tell, but she does still have this big scar across her forehead as a reminder.
It's not a bad thing that trikes aren't as common as they used to be...
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Very few people respond to others' posts on here, NI, so I wouldn't feel too bad. I used to feel like not only did people not respond to me on the NZ Music forum but that once I had made a comment on a thread, the entire thread would stop. No more discussion. End. Luckily I've lived long enough that disappointment is my friend <sob>.......
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Hey, disappointment is a friend for life! Unlike that bloody optimism, had it with that guy.... But it's probably not the time to skew the thread and discuss injuries to our motions/egos!
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